


The Poetry Killer

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Series: You Be Mulder and I'll Be Scully [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Anal Plug, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awkward Boners, Awkward Kissing, Bestiality, Blood, Blood Kink, Body Horror, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, Butt Plugs, Come Eating, Come Packing, Come Swallowing, Corpse Desecration, Corpses, Crime Scenes, Derek In Heat, Derek's Alpha Form, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, F/F, F/M, FBI Agent Derek, FBI Agent Derek Hale, FBI Agent Stiles, Guns, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Murder, Mutilation, Necrophilia, Past Underage, Public Blow Jobs, Shooting Guns, Shower Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slow Build, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Spanking, Surprise Kissing, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships, Weapons, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-02-14 13:16:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 118,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2193213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Blue Moon. Peter is dead, Blue Moon has been removed from the streets, Kate Argent is finally behind bars, and things are steadily returning to some kind of norm. But Derek and Stiles are about to face the biggest case of their careers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Takes Guts?

**Author's Note:**

> __  
>  We ask that you please read [THIS](http://asexualderek.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on.   
> 

Derek's spent months trying to get to this point and he still doesn't understand why Deaton finally folded and decided to allow him to have a session with Stiles about possible reassignment. He's pretty sure he knows why, though, it's not like he can't hear everything that's being said about him in this building.

There have been rumors going around about him being moved to New York. If this doesn't actually work out, Derek's positive that that's where he'll be sent.

He's said it time and time again that if they wanted to move him, or needed to, that it didn't really matter where. He's lost most of his connection to California, anyway. Moving out of state (and possibly across country) might be the best thing for him now.

If Stiles turns this down, if it doesn't work out, he'll take it - no matter how strongly he feels for the other man.

“That’s right,” he confirms as he looks at the counselor, his hands rested before him and a small stack of papers beneath them.

The woman takes off her glasses and smiles slightly, “This is a delicate procedure, agent Hale, it’s not often we have an agent that requests to have a peer assigned back to him. You can see why we’re concerned, can’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Agent Stilinski,” the woman turns to Stiles, “As I understand, you’ve been avoiding your former partner since the reassignment?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says curtly and continues to glare at Derek with his arms crossed over his chest, not even bothering to look at the woman.

His old partner looks ragged these days, hair in disarray, a full beard that hasn't been trimmed or tamed in months probably. Derek clearly hasn't been taking care of himself. If he's looked intimidating in the past, the way he looks now has only made it worse.

“I _have_ been.”

“And I take it that agent Hale never informed you that he had filed for the change? You were under the impression that he was satisfied with your partnership after some time?”

Stiles turns his head to look at her, eyes narrowing, “Yeah,” he says and then looks back to Derek, leaning in towards the table, resting his forearms on it as he watches his former partner’s face, “I was under the impression that we were friends. You could have told me.”

“Stiles, I-”

“Agent Hale,” the woman interrupts them to get Derek’s attention, “You chased away your last partner - agent Hallway, you had agent Stilinski reassigned, and your partner before that was shot during an investigation. While by your side, agent Stilinski, too, suffered injuries, did he not?”

Derek glances at her nervously and then back at Stiles, “He did, but-”

“That's quite a record with us - especially when you consider that it all happened within the last year,” she snaps, interrupting him again, “You're on a self-destructive path with the FBI, don't you think?”

“I don't th-”

“Request denied, agent Hale,” the woman says sharply and shakes her head, “This isn’t a game of musical chairs, and as far as I’ve seen, agent Stilinski has been more effective within the bureau since he was partnered with agent Argent.”

She looks at Derek then and stands up, “I’m sorry, but you’re not children, this is a job, and you should know better - as a senior agent - how to act professional in your work environment. Any further requests will also be denied, it’s no longer up for consideration.”

“Good,” Stiles says bitterly and tries not to let his hurt show as he stands up as well, looking at the woman briefly, “Thanks.”

“Stiles,” Derek starts as he stands up from his seat, his hands numbly reaching out for his papers, “Wait.”

Stiles pointedly ignores Derek's request and stalks off towards the door, flinging it open and heading back out to the elevator, pushing the button and willing the damn thing to hurry up so he doesn’t get stuck with the older man.

Derek follows after Stiles, moving to join his side at the elevators and reaching out to grab his arm, “Will you just listen to me, for two seconds?”

“Why should I?” Stiles snaps slightly, jerking his arm away from Derek as he stares up at him with wide eyes, “We were good together. We got along, we were even friends and after everything, you still had me reassigned.”

“That’s not how it happened,” Derek says as the doors open, “Don’t you know me better than that? Don’t you think that’s the **last** thing I wanted?”

Stiles chuckles dryly and steps into the elevator, “How am I supposed to know what the fuck you want when half of the time you never told me anything anyway?” he asks, but doesn't wait for an answer, “It’s fine, I work better with Allison.”

Derek moves in after him, joining his side again and staring down at the younger man, “You don’t. The only reason it looks that way is because you were injured most of our time together. Please,” he says finally, searching Stiles’s face, “Stiles.”

“Just give it a rest. You wanted me reassigned, I’m reassigned. You heard her: any future attempts will be denied.”

“I wanted you reassigned when we first became partners,” Derek tries to clarify, not caring how desperate he sounds, “You remember me saying something about it, don’t you?”

Stiles continues to stare at Derek as the elevator beeps with each floor, otherwise silent as he raises his brows a little more, expression completely unphased - he can’t let Derek know it bothers him as much as it does.

“Stiles,” Derek reaches out for the younger man, touching his biceps, “It wasn’t like this happened recently - reassignments take time - I filed the papers earlier, before we got to know one another.”

“And what?” Stiles asks dejectedly, “Now that you know me, you’d never even think of filing for reassignment? It’s all just some big misunderstanding?” the door opens and he shakes his head, pulling away from Derek again to step out, “Just fucking drop it, Hale.”

Derek follows after Stiles but takes his seat at his own desk, shoulders dropping in defeat as he looks at the empty one across from his for a moment before getting up again, taking the list of leads from atop his keyboard, grabbing his holster and his coat as he leaves.

Allison glances up, watching Derek walk back into the elevator, “How’d it go?”

“Request denied,” Stiles tells her as he takes his seat at his desk, forcing a smile, “Thank fucking god.”

“Oh, come on,” Allison says as she motions to Derek, “You’ve gotta at least feel bad for the guy. He’s like… a walking toothache.”

“He brought it on himself.”

Allison nods in agreement, “That may be the case, but he’s trying, isn’t he? You can’t tell me it isn’t flattering.”

It _is_ flattering, but Stiles doesn’t agree, “You’re my partner now, why are you trying to defend him?” he asks, “You don’t even like the guy.”

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I hate his guts,” Allison confirms, “But I haven’t seen him so upset in my entire time with the bureau. He grew really close to you. You don’t actually think that he’d file the paperwork to have you reassigned, do you? The guy was at your beck and call the entire time you were shot.”

“It doesn’t matter if I think he’d file for it or not,” Stiles says, frowning as he looks up at Allison, “Because he did. A-And he could’ve stopped it, he could’ve told Deaton to get rid of the paperwork. But it went through, so he must’ve not been too concerned with it.”

“I heard that Deaton’s considering moving him to the office in New York,” Allison says as she looks down at her index cards, “I guess they _really_ don’t like him now that Kate’s in jail.”

“That’s so fucking stupid,” Stiles huffs out, “She killed his entire family. I swear to God, people are such morons… will he have any say so? Can he decline it?”

“I think the word for ‘decline’ is ‘quit’."

Stiles feels his stomach twist as Allison continues, “It doesn’t help that he’s distracted constantly, and he’s hardly been doing any work since you got moved. I know there’s like a box of papers in Deaton’s office full of his attempts to get you back as his partner.”

“You’re really trying to guilt trip me, aren’t you?” Stiles asks knowingly, narrowing his eyes at her, “It’s not gonna work. I dunno why you’re even trying.”

“I dunno, you two were pretty much the dream team until you started getting attacked. That bitch of a counselor probably didn’t even let you two talk to one another, did she?”

“Not really,” Stiles admits. She isn't wrong, and he did think it was kind of strange considering those kinds of things are supposed to give them a chance to talk candidly without it getting out of hand, “She kept cutting him off anytime he’d try to say something.”

“She probably hates his guts more than I do,” Allison says, frowning sympathetically, “He’s been in there a **lot** with her. Half of the bureau complains about him enough to get him taken in once or twice a month. I’ve been in there a few times too, and then we just stopped bothering to talk to one another.”

“I don’t wanna talk to him,” Stiles lies and tries really hard to focus on his work, furrowing his brows as he bites on the cap of his pen.

“If you don’t, you might never get a chance to,” Allison says, giving him a significant look, “Once he’s in New York, he’s not coming back.”

“You’re evil,” Stiles tells her, then shakes his head to himself and wonders if maybe he **should** listen to Derek.

Allison smiles and picks up her phone, “Just buy me something pretty when you go in to file the paperwork to be reassigned to him. I like weapons, sharp things.”

Stiles snorts at her and rolls his eyes, because he’s not going to be filing for reassignment, especially not when he hasn’t even really decided if he wants to hear his former partner out or not.

* * *

Stiles busies himself with work the best he can, trying (and failing miserably) not to think about Derek. He’s probably going to regret even considering it, but when he clocks out for the day, he doesn’t go to his apartment. Instead, he drives to his former partner’s and parks behind the Camaro.

Part of the reason he doesn’t want to listen to the older man is because he knows without a doubt that he’ll just cave, give in and forgive Derek - and the more stubborn, bullheaded part of himself wants to prove (a least to himself) that he can be strong and not rely on someone else so much.

He walks up to the front door, one hand in his pocket as he reaches out with his other to knock, “It’s me,” he says, knowing Derek can hear him. The older man probably even heard him when he pulled onto the street, might even be poised at the door, waiting for him.

Derek looks up from his bed in the back of the house, setting down the photos from the last file he’s looking at and standing up, moving through the maze of broken furniture and tables as he walks to the front door. He unlocks the top chain and the three deadbolts before opening it just a little and raising his brows when he sees Stiles standing there.

Stiles doesn’t wait for an invitation, pushing the door open all of the way and brushing passed Derek, moving into the house and glancing around in surprise at the mess, “You wanted a chance to talk, so talk.”

Derek frowns and closes the door, reaching up to scratch his beard as he looks at Stiles warily, “Come in…” he says shortly and crosses his arms over his chest.

“If you’re gonna do the whole ‘gruff bit’ with me then I’m just gonna go,” Stiles says, moving back to the door.

Derek backs in front of the door quickly and looks down at Stiles, “You were clear before about not wanting to talk to me, why are you bothering to now?”

“I need to explain myself to you?” Stiles asks incredulously, “I shouldn’t have to explain _anything_ to you, much less why I’m deciding to hear you out.”

He shakes his head and tries to push Derek away from the door, “It was a mistake even coming here, now move so I can leave.”

“Wait,” Derek says, reaching out to grab Stiles’s waist to still him and he stares at the younger man, expression softening, “I’m sorry, okay? Now can you give me a chance to talk?”

“What do you think I was trying to do?” Stiles asks and feels his heart stutter at the large hands against his waist, so he pulls back, “I told you to talk, I’m not repeating myself again.”

Derek sighs and drops his hands as he looks down at the ground, “You’re right, I filed the papers and I **wouldn’t** have if I knew you better. But I didn’t, okay? I didn’t know you, and I just wanted you removed.”

“You’re doing a real bang-up job at explaining things,” Stiles says sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“I filed them after I found out you were digging into the cases. I almost **killed** you, if you don’t remember how I was outside of the building, when I confronted you.”

“Yeah, I do,” Stiles admits, remembering the way Derek towered over him menacingly, “And?”

“That’s it. I filed them and I forgot about even doing it afterwards.”

“Do you feel like a major fucking moron for forgetting?” Stiles asks, watching Derek’s face carefully.

“Yes. But considering everything that happened afterwards, are you honestly surprised that it slipped my mind?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure you regretted it.”

Derek lifts his arms as if to point out their surroundings, “That’s not already obvious?”

“Hearing you say it, admitting it, is so much more satisfying,” Stiles tells him, “I’m glad you feel like a moron, you should.”

“I know.”

“Now,” Stiles clears his throat, “Care to tell me about New York?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean: you being sent to New York, you big oaf,” Stiles says, raising his brows, “Something about if you decline, you’re quitting? I dunno, _explain_.”

“They’ve been considering it for the past couple weeks,” Derek says as he moves to sit on the arm of the couch, or really the only part of the couch that isn’t covered.

“I said 'explain', which also means 'elaborate',” Stiles flails slightly with his hands as he turns to face Derek.

“What are you wanting me to elaborate on? The ‘considering’ part, or the ‘weeks’ part?”

“Oh my God,” Stiles grumbles and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Are you going or not?” he asks, voice rising slightly.

“They haven’t asked me, yet - it’s just a rumor, Stiles - and I’ve heard Deaton mention it a few times. It’s not concrete.”

“Good,” Stiles says, tone softer this time as he looks around idly, then gestures to the door, “Well, I’m gonna go.”

Derek frowns and nods, but doesn’t bother saying anything else as he watches the younger man.

“I’ll file for reassignment in the morning,” Stiles tells him and opens the door, lingering by it for a moment and watching Derek before leaving the house.

Derek sits still on the end of the couch as he listens to Stiles drive away and he glances around the empty, full room. He doesn’t like how hopeful he’s getting all of a sudden, the rise of his heart beats, the feeling of impatience stirring in his gut.

He was confident before that things were over between them, that Stiles had made up his mind, and that Derek would pick up everything here and move to New York the moment Deaton asked him to; but this changes things.

Now he feels like he needs to put forth an effort and get the place cleaned up before Stiles moves back in.

* * *

Stiles reaches into the bottom left drawer of his desk grabs the little set of Chinese ring daggers he bought Allison. He doesn’t say anything as he reaches out and sits them down beside her keyboard, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a lopsided grin.

“Knew it,” Allison says softly as she takes them and grins, her fingers brushing over the blades in adoration, “And I told you so.”

“Can it,” Stiles responds and rolls his eyes, then moves to Derek’s desk and puts his palms against the surface of it, raising his brows slightly as he waits for the older man to take notice.

Derek writes down the number of the next contact as he talks to the woman on the phone, “And when's the best time to reach her?” he asks before glancing up from the phone and looking at Stiles, his chest tightening as his eyes run over the other agent's face, “Hmm?”

“I was thinking maybe you could move all my stuff back to my desk,” Stiles tells him, trying not to smile at the asshole, “You kinda owe me one, Hale.”

Derek raises a brow, but doesn’t argue it, “Hold on one moment, Mrs. Kelsler, let me hand you over to my partner.” He gives Stiles the phone, pressing his tie to his chest as he pushes his chair back and stands up, then moves to Allison and Stiles’s old desk.

Stiles gapes at the older man, but he takes the phone tentatively and walks around the desk to sit in Derek’s chair, pressing the phone to his ear as he watches his partner's backside, “Hi, Mrs. Kelsler, this is agent Stilinski. Agent Hale will be right back with you.”

* * *

Derek sits back in the driver’s side seat, the entire car shifting with his weight as he settles in and closes his door. He sifts through the bag, handing Stiles his order and getting comfortable again as he looks back at his partner, “One more hour.”

“Then we can go home,” Stiles sighs and takes the food, trying not to let his fatigue show so much. He’s excited to be back with Derek, of course, but stakeouts always make him sleepy.

Derek nods as he unwraps his burger, “Should drop by your place first, move as much as we can tonight.”

Stiles’s brows furrow in confusion and he looks at Derek, “What do you mean?” he asks as he shakes his head, “I’m not moving back in with you, Derek.”

Derek frowns at the comment from his partner and slowly looks at Stiles as well, his insides twisting painfully, “You’re not?”

“Uh,” Stiles gapes slightly, surprised that Derek actually thought he would, and then he shakes his head again, “No, I’m not.”

“Why not?” Derek asks before he can stop himself.

“Why would I?” Stiles asks in response, confused as to why Derek expected him to in the first place.

Derek shakes his head as his brows draw in together, “You were living with me before," he says, and while he knows it's not a good enough reason, it makes sense to him, "The only reason you moved out was because you were upset at me.”

“Maybe so,” Stiles says, “But I have my own place now. We don’t have to live together to be partners. I mean... I moved in with you because I didn't have anywhere else to go after Heather kicked me out.”

Derek nods slowly and looks back at the road as he starts eating. He probably shouldn’t have just assumed that Stiles would move back in, but it made sense to him at the time.

Stiles picks at his fries and watches Derek instead of what he’s supposed to be watching, still kind of confused as to why he’d just expect him to move back in after everything, “You missed me, didn’t you?”

Derek huffs in annoyance and rolls his eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says as he takes a sip of his coke.

“You did,” Stiles grins and pokes the werewolf in the side, “You missed me,” he sings out, “Admit it.”

“Shut up, Stilinski,” Derek responds as he pushes Stiles’s hand away and pointedly avoids looking at the younger man.

“It’s understandable,” Stiles continues, still grinning, “We had a lot of time to bond over me pissing on your hand and you washing my ass. I missed you too, big guy,” he admits.

Derek looks at Stiles and resists the urge to ask his partner that if he missed him so much, why isn’t he moving back in, “Right…”

“I did,” Stiles says indignantly, “You can hear if I’m lying or not - _I missed you_ ; specifically your cooking, but eh.”

The alpha rolls his eyes again as he finishes his first burger, moving to the second as he tries not to think too much about what Stiles says, it just seems like more reason to move back in with him, “Yeah.”

“'Yeah' what?” Stiles prods lightly, chewing on some fries, “Yeah, you missed me?”

“Stiles, shut up and eat your food.”

“Fine,” Stiles says without heat and looks away from the older man then, shoving his hand into the little cardboard box to pull out his nuggets.

Derek sits silently by Stiles, listening to his partner’s heart beats as he eats, glancing over at the younger man until it’s time to leave and he starts the car, pulling up onto the main road, “I hate stakeouts.”

“You and me both, buddy,” Stiles says, sitting his empty happy meal on the floorboard to put his seat belt back on.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Presstilton  
](http://presstilton.tumblr.com/)


	2. The Second Vic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read season 1, and the warnings on the chapters of this fic, then the following chapter won't be surprising. If it is, you can't say I didn't [warn](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) you.

Stiles sits the tray of shots down on their table and slides back into the booth next to Derek, offering the werewolf a semi-sympathetic smile, because he knows the scents get to the older man.

He sets the shots out, two for him, two for Derek and two for Scott, then nods towards the bar and leans in closer to talk, “That big guy over at the bar’s been watching me, I think I might go talk to him.”

Derek narrows his brows and takes his first shot, knocking it back quickly and trying not to seem phased by the comment, “Then go talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Scott grimaces as he tosses back his first shot, “You’ve been claiming you’re bisexual for years now. Go prove it.”

Stiles gapes a little at the both of them and huffs, “I will,” he says and downs both of his shots, one right after the other before getting back up. He walks up to the man and grins, leaning to rest his elbow against the bar, “Hey, big guy,” He says coyly.

“Hi,” the man says as he turns and looks him over like he’s done at least fifteen times tonight.

“Couldn’t help but notice you watching me,” Stiles points out and he’s rusty, so goddamn rusty. He hasn’t been in the game for over ten years, so he knows he’s going to fall on his fucking face or something.

The man chuckles, “You’re difficult not to watch,” he says as he reaches out to put his hand on the boy’s waist, “I guess I could’ve been a little less obvious about it.”

“Nah,” Stiles grins wider and moves a little closer, glancing down to the hand on him, “I like knowing I’m being watched,” he says, hand reaching up to squeeze the guy’s biceps, “You’re big, I like that.”

“Do you, now?” the man asks and glances at the two at the table he was at before as they watch them, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure,” Stiles says and he’s starting to feel a little excited, because this isn’t going as badly as he expected it to.

“I’m Darren,” the man says then, his hand moving around the boy’s waist, “What’s your name?”

“Cody,” Stiles lies and moves a little more into Darren’s space, “Bet you could lift me like I’m nothing, huh?”

Darren looks down Cody’s body pointedly, “I probably could; you must weigh about a dime and a couple nickles.”

“Something like that,” Stiles says and smooths his hand down Darren’s thick arm.

“Your friends won’t mind you staying over here, will they?” Darren asks as he orders Cody a drink, “Don’t tell me one of them’s your boyfriend or some shit like that.”

“No, of course not,” Stiles narrows his brows slightly, still grinning and not looking back at his table, “Why would you think that?”

Darren shrugs, “You were sittin’ pretty close to that mountain of a man stuffed in the corner, figured you were his.”

“Mm,” Stiles’s eyes drop to Darren’s mouth before meeting his eyes again, “Nope, he’s just my partner.”

“Ah,” Darren nods in understanding, open relationships aren’t uncommon with gay men, so it’s not surprising, “That’s cool, so he won’t mind me taking you home with me?”

“He doesn’t really have a say so,” Stiles says, somewhat confused and then he realizes what Darren must think, “We’re FBI agents, he’s my partner. We’re not together.”

Darren chuckles and shakes his head, his arms wrapping around Cody’s waist as he pulls the boy flush against him, “It’s okay, you don’t gotta explain it, that’s your business, not mine.”

“Good lord,” Stiles puts his hands on Darren’s chest and has to fight to keep the slobber from spilling out, “You’re thick, wow.”

“And you might as well be a goddamn toothpick,” Darren observes and stares into the smaller man’s eyes, “You finish your beer, and if you don’t mind, we can get out of here.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods numbly and turns a little to take the beer, chugging at it as he looks back at both Derek and Scott from over his shoulder, winking at them.

Darren watches Cody, pulling his hand back to take his own beer up, his left hand running up the smaller man’s spine.

Stiles grimaces slightly when he finishes the beer, swallowing down a little bit of foam before putting it on the bar top, “Ready when you are.”

Darren stands up, seat sliding on the ground as he wraps his arm around Cody’s shoulders and leads him out of the bar, leaning a little to whisper in his ear, “Your place or mine?”

Stiles glances back at his friends again before smiling at Darren, “Mine,” he says, because he knows he’ll feel more comfortable that way, “It’s about two blocks from here, we can walk.”

“Well alright then,” Darren says as he straightens up, still watching Cody closely, “You know, I’ve seen you at the bar a couple other times.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asks and slinks an arm around the back of Darren’s waist, “Maybe you should’ve talked to me then.”

Darren shrugs, “You always seemed pretty interested in your ‘partner’,” He says as he brushes his hand along Cody’s back, “Didn’t notice I was lookin’ ‘til tonight.”

“You were making it kinda obvious,” Stiles says, ignoring what the guy is saying about Derek, “And besides, a guy can only be abstinent for so long, right?”

Darren raises his brows but doesn’t pry, watching Cody’s lips move and his eyes lift back up to the younger man’s brows, his eye lashes, “Long as the starin’ worked, I think it’s worth it to be a little obvious with somethin’ as pretty as you.”

“Well, it worked, big guy,” Stiles chuckles and tugs the bigger man along, “And you can have your way with me in no time.”

Darren smirks, his hand dropping down Cody’s back as he runs his palm over the boy’s ass, “You’re an eager little thing,” he observes, walking fast enough to keep Cody by his side.

“I’ve never been with a man before,” Stiles explains and grins at the way Darren touches him, “I’m a little anxious, yeah.”

“You really were tellin’ the truth when you said that giant wasn’t yours?” Darren asks in confusion, “You got a thing for big men, and you haven’t gotten your little hands on **that** one?”

“He’s one of my best friends,” Stiles tells him, “I don’t like him that way, now can you stop bringing him up? You’re the one I’m about to let fuck me, not him.”

Darren looks back down to Cody’s lips, “I’m just tryin’ to figure you out. I can’t help it, you know how many little twinks like to say ‘ _I’ve never been with a man before_ ’, or ‘ _this is my first time_ ’? A lot of ‘em do.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not lying,” Stiles says seriously, smirk softening as he does the same and glances down at Darren’s mouth, “So be easy with the merchandise, I’m fragile.”

Darren chuckles and reaches up with his other hand to touch Cody’s cheek, “I’ll be easy, kiddo.”

* * *

Stiles pointedly ignores the looks Lydia keeps giving him and takes another handful of M&M’s before tossing them in his mouth, turning to look at Scott with a raised brow as he chews, “You told her, didn’t you?” He asks accusingly.

“She’s my wife, dude,” Scott reasons weakly, shrugging at Stiles, “I can’t keep anything from her.”

“Traitor,” Stiles says and shakes his head, sighing to himself.

“I still think it was stupid that you left the bar with a guy you didn’t know,” Lydia says, “Did you at **least** have your gun?”

“I’m a lot smarter than you give me credit for; of course I had my gun on me. Besides, the whole point of a one night stand **is** not knowing the person.”

Lydia shakes her head, “Please, one night stands are so nineties.”

“That’s so easy for you to say,” Stiles snorts and looks between the both of them, “Both of you fuck like bunnies. I’d been with the same woman for ten years and in the last one, we had sex maybe a total of three times - if that. One night stands are necessary sometimes.”

“Or maybe you could’ve just hooked up with someone you know a little better,” Scott says vaguely, glancing at Lydia before looking at his friend, “Maybe it would’ve been more fulfilling.”

“ _Sex_ is fulfilling,” Stiles says pointedly, “And the sex I had with Darren was… nice, so shut up, the both of you.”

“‘Nice’,” Lydia repeats, “How did you get down to three times in a year? Me and Scott still have sex about… Four times a week, if we can fit it in on the weekend. That’s not including quickies.”

“It’s none of your business how we got to that point,” Stiles responds, “It’s moot, Heather and I are done. All I’m saying is, is that it was due time for me to have sex with someone else for a change. She’d been my one and only until Saturday night.”

Lydia nods and shrugs, “You and Hale have horrible records with sex, don’t you?” she asks knowingly, “You’ve been with one person and I’m pretty sure you’ve had more sex than him.”

“So not true,” Stiles argues, “He’s had sex with like, five different people,” he says before he can stop himself.

“ _Five different people_ ,” Lydia says and shakes her head, “Doesn’t mean he’s had more sex than you, though. Maybe you two could help each other out. I heard he has a thing for dick.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Stiles squeaks out, then looks at Scott with wide eyes, “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

“She kinda has a point. You’re both single, you could help each other out.”

“A good partner is one that always has your back,” Lydia says, giving Stiles a suggestive look.

“No,” Stiles shakes his head vehemently and stands up, “Is there a gas leak in this place? You’re all fucking stupid, I swear. I need new friends,” he mutters and walks out of the break room.

Lydia watches Stiles leave and looks at her husband, “Looks like someone has a bad case of denial.”

“It’s **so** bad,” Scott tells her and shakes his head, “You really don’t even know how bad it is.”

“I don’t get it, he sleeps with a bear, he works with a bear,” Lydia says, motioning with each hand before she sips her diet coke, “How is this one and one not making a two for him? It’s like he’s an idiot or something.”

“He’s oblivious, baby,” Scott says and smiles, leaning to kiss her on the cheek before standing up as well, “Give him time.”

“I’m sure all of us are going to be singing ‘I told you so’ at their wedding,” Lydia says, wiping her cheek and making a face at Scott even as she smiles to herself. She’s tempted to run up and smack his ass to get him back, but too many people are around, and they got in big enough trouble last time.

* * *

Derek climbs back in their car once they finish with their leads, tossing the crossed off list in the back and sighing in frustration. It’s not a _completely_ horrible day until your list goes blank and you stop producing leads. And he thought that getting out of the office, and away from everyone talking about Stiles and his new ‘bear’, was going to be better.

Stiles looks up when Derek gets back in the car and lifts a curious brow, “Nothing?” he asks, looking into the backseat at the paper before meeting his partner’s eyes again.

“Stale,” Derek responds gruffly and starts the car, pulling off the side of the road and looking at Stiles, “We have nothing else to go on for this case.”

“Something’ll turn up, big guy,” Stiles insists confidently and, after the conversation he had with Lydia and Scott, he can’t help the way his ears turn pink when he looks at Derek too long.

Derek huffs and doesn’t respond, _big guy_ , that was **his** nickname before the asshole the other night. That was who **he** was; he hates feeling jealous, but he knows he is. He frowns as he feels the steering wheel groan under his hands.

Stiles watches Derek’s peculiarly moody behavior and chalks it up to them not getting any leads, “You okay?” he asks anyway, just to be sure, in case he’s missed something.

Derek growls, the best he can manage as he starts thinking into it too much - the way the man had his hands all over Stiles - it took everything for him not to flip the table he and Scott were at. But it’s not like he can say anything, it’s not like Stiles is his; it’s not like he even wanted to move back in, ‘good cooking’ be damned.

Stiles turns a little in his seat to observe Derek even more, narrowing his brows at the older man, “You’re pouting,” he points out, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not pouting.”

“You are. Stop being such a sour wolf and tell me what’s wrong with you.”

Derek looks at Stiles and the odd term he uses before turning back to the road, “Shut up, Stilinski. It’s none of your business.”

“We’re back to this, are we? Fine then, you big, overgrown baby.”

Derek tightens his right fist, feeling the steering wheel crack between his fingers, “Stop talking already.”

“I just **did** stop talking,” Stiles says and turns his head to glare at Derek, “What the Hell is wrong with you? You’ve been so moody all day and I’m catching the brunt of it.”

Derek shakes his head but speaks before he can stop himself, “You shouldn’t have went home with him.”

“I shouldn’t have what..?” Stiles shakes his head in confusion and his eyes widen slightly when he realizes what Derek’s talking about, “That’s why you’re so bent out of shape, because of Darren?”

Derek growls loudly at the sound of the other man’s name and he keeps his eyes forward, “He could’ve killed you, just because you know his name doesn’t mean you know he wasn’t a serial killer.”

“I had my gun on me,” Stiles tells him, but he doesn’t understand why he’s even trying to explain himself to Derek, “And I’m still alive right now, so what gives?”

“You don’t remember what happened _last_ time you were at that bar?”

“I told you I was gonna propose to Heather? What does that have to do with anything?”

“That’s insignificant, I’m talking about the time you were **stabbed**.”

“What do you want me to do, Derek? Be so paranoid about enjoying myself that I make myself miserable? I’ve been stabbed, yes; and I’ve been shot, but I’m not just gonna constantly look over my shoulder like that.”

“You don’t have to fuck a person you don’t know in order to have ‘fun’,” Derek responds and glances down when his cell phone starts ringing, so he reaches back into his coat pocket, handing it to Stiles to answer.

Stiles shakes his head incredulously and takes the phone, unlocking it before answering, holding it to his ear, “Yeah,” he says, brows furrowing as the person on the other line speaks and he looks at Derek, “We’re not far, we’ll be there.”

He hangs up and tosses the phone between his partner’s legs, knowing the werewolf heard everything, “You think it’s the same guy?”

“I hope so,” Derek says, and it doesn’t sound _right_ , but that’s the downside of dealing with serial killer cases: you have to wait for the next body (if not hope for it), until you can anticipate it, “Fifteen years old… he’s going for younger girls.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky. Hopefully someone saw something this time.”

Derek drives silently the rest of the way, trying to ignore the feeling of the cracked steering wheel under his hand and not think so much about why they were arguing in the first place.

He parks behind one of the police cars on scene and turns off his own, grabbing his coat from the back and pulling it on as he climbs out, reaching into the pocket for his badge.

Stiles gets out as well and pulls his own badge out, flashing it briefly at the cops on scene before moving to the house, looking at Derek over his shoulder as he steps inside.

Derek follows quickly behind his partner, sighing in annoyance as he realizes that no one bothered to turn off the music spewing out of what he presumes is going to be another cd player. He glances at the struggle in the living room, the couch upturned and a splatter of blood on one of the corners of the arm of it.

_‘Poetry in motion, all that I adore,’_

“It’s him,” Stiles mumbles as he listens to the music, moving further back into the house, following where the other people on scene are coming from.

Derek grimaces at the overwhelming, pungent scent of arousal and seed, and he almost gags. He covers his mouth and nose as he follows Stiles, glancing into the bathroom and lifting his brows. As much as he doesn’t want to, he walks in to look at everything he can.

_‘No number-nine love potion, could make me love her more.’_

Stiles really shouldn’t be surprised by the gruesome, gaping hole in the girl’s chest, but he is, and it’s still not easy for him to look at it. He forces himself to this time, nodding to Lahey as he moves closer and crouches down next to the body, observing how battered her face looks. It all gives him deja-vu, because it’s almost exactly like how they found Mandy Chapman, apart from the facial injury.

“I think she put up more of a struggle than the last victim,” he points out, looking up at Derek before observing the girl's body a little more closely, then pointing at her fingers as he looks at Lahey, “That looks like blood, you get a sample yet?”

Isaac glances down and checks as well, but shakes his head, “Not yet, it’s probably just hers.”

Derek clears his throat as he walks into the bedroom, “It’s not, get a sample of it.”

Stiles grins at that and thinks idly that it’s pretty neat to have a partner that’s also a werewolf, it definitely makes things convenient sometimes.

Isaac gives Derek a look, “Okay, if you say so, grandpa,” he says smartly, but smiles as he moves to the body, taking up a couple fingers.

Derek rolls his eyes as he walks past the victim, pulling a glove onto his hand before reaching out to turn off the cd player, glancing around the room, “He’s small - if he was able to be resisted, at least for a moment, by **that** fifteen year old girl. I doubt she caught him off guard.”

“I don’t think he liked it so well, though,” Stiles says and frowns as he looks over the girl’s face again, “Not if this is any indication. You check the bathroom yet?”

“Yeah,” Derek responds, “There’s semen on the side of the tub,” he says in disgust, “If she fell on her own, from slipping, he probably got excited. I wouldn’t be surprised if he harms his next victim on purpose.”

“Let’s hope not,” Stiles mutters and stands back up, knees popping, “Has anyone talked to the neighbors yet?”

Derek shakes his head, “Not yet, it’s best they don’t; they’d do a poor job. Let’s go,” he says as he covers his nose again and motions to the door, “We’ll do it ourselves.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and waves briefly at Lahey before heading out first, glancing back over his shoulder at his partner, “You okay? I don’t remember you holding your nose the first time.”

“It didn’t stink so bad,” Derek responds and breathes easier the moment they’re out of the house, “The thrill of his second victim is getting to his head… and not the preferred head.”

“Well, there are only two neighbors this time,” Stiles says, stopping outside and pointing to the two houses, “You wanna split up so we can get done faster?”

Derek nods in agreement, his head throbbing in pain as he closes his eyes and shakes it a little, “Let’s get this done.”

“Okay, buddy,” Stiles rubs Derek’s arm before taking the house on the left, knocking and questioning them thoroughly. It’s no surprise that they didn’t see or hear anything, not really, but part of him had been hoping maybe they’d catch a break. He thanks them and heads back towards Derek’s car, waiting for his partner to finish up.

Derek questions the parents in the second house, getting about just as far as he expected, but their son manages to provide him with a few details that might help them out. He leaves his card with the boy, just in case he remembers anything else, and then returns to the car, climbing in and looking at Stiles.

“The kid probably saw him the day before yesterday.”

“You think he was surveying the area?” Stiles asks, sitting his notepad down in between the seats, “Or watching the girl?”

“Watching her,” Derek answers as he starts the car and backs up before driving onto the road, “Her and her friends were practicing some cheerleader routine just outside her house. There were a lot of people, but the boy mentions seeing a smaller man watching them then, and driving by the house over and over again this morning in a [silver Saturn Ion](http://33.media.tumblr.com/7d64965300348e6a90cef25bcdc84824/tumblr_nb6do3lzOw1rxjbyoo1_1280.jpg).”

“That’s something,” Stiles says optimistically, “Did he catch any of the plates?”

Derek shakes his head, “He’s thirteen years old, the most he remembers is that the man had ‘facial hair’, he wasn’t very descriptive - apart from the car.”

“Still,” Stiles says, trying to keep from flailing excitedly, “Small build, facial hair, Saturn Ion - those are all things we can work with. This is good.”

Derek smiles at his partner’s enthusiasm and nods, “It’s more than we had beforehand, and we still have her friends from school that we can question tomorrow, maybe they saw the man as well.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods and squirms in his seat, “I’m so excited,” he admits, “Maybe we’ll be able to get some kinda composite to get out.”

“Hopefully, I told the kid to be available during the next week, in case we can schedule a composite artist to help him,” Derek chuckles and shakes his head. He understands the excitement, even though he doesn’t feel it much anymore, he remembers it pretty well.

* * *

Stiles still feels like he’s on some kind of adrenaline high, because they have more information now than they did before and they have a better chance of catching this guy before he strikes again, hopefully.

He looks at the paper on the table, the report he got back from Lahey and glances up at Derek, one palm touching the table, “You were right,” he says, feeling jittery but completely fucking exhilarated at the same time, “The blood is the suspect’s, it wasn’t Courtney’s.”

“I knew it wasn’t,” Derek responds, “I could smell it underneath everything else, just trying to catch the scent was annoying,” he says as he stands from his seat, setting down the yearbook in front of Stiles to show him a recent photo of the girl’s cheerleading team.

“I’m not sure how cheerleading works, but do they practice over summer vacation?”

“I dunno,” Stiles says and looks the picture over, glancing up at Derek, “I could ask Lydia, she used to cheer in middle school. You know how girls are, though,” he snorts, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a big get together, kids do that.”

Derek nods silently, staring at the photo before leaning down to make a list of the names on the side, “And we have to interview each one of them…”

Stiles shrugs it off a little bit and stands up so that he’s not so hunched over the table, “Most of them probably won’t have anything for us, but we could get lucky again,” he says, smiling slightly.

“If we have at least more than one person who can help put together a-a composite, then we can get it out,” he flails his hands out vaguely, “And if we get it out, someone might know the guy. Interviewing them all could be like, the determining factor.”

“Women are normally more descriptive,” Derek agrees as he stands back up, closing the yearbook to look over the photos underneath, “Even if none of them saw anything, they might know other people that were there during the routine.”

“And the more people,” Stiles says excitedly, “The more chance we have of actually catching this guy. I’m running a search on all the Saturn Ion’s in the area, what color did you say it was again? I’ll narrow the list down when I get home.”

“Silver,” Derek responds shortly, “They’re not **too** common anymore.”

“Good,” Stiles says back and rocks slightly on the balls of his feet, almost completely incapable of coming down, “I-I’ll uh, like I said, narrow it down and-provided the list isn’t like, a mile fucking long, maybe we could check a few out. God, could you imagine the look on the asshole’s face if-”

Derek reaches out suddenly, dropping the pen in his hand as he turns and grabs the sides of Stiles’s face as he leans down, lifting the younger man’s chin and kissing him.

Stiles’s eyes widen and his palms suspend in the air just next to Derek’s shoulders, heart racing so fast he feels like he might actually die. He can’t even remember what he’d been talking about, all he can think about now is the fact that Derek has really soft lips and-

“W-Why did you do that?” he pulls back and stares up at his partner, chest heaving nervously.

Derek looks at Stiles, his hands still on the younger man’s neck and cheeks and he straightens up tentatively, swallowing as he stares at his partner.

Stiles continues to stare at Derek and mindlessly reaches up to touch the large hands on his skin, feeling like he’s about to pass out at any minute from lack of oxygen. He gently removes his partner’s hands and narrows his brows, then steps further away, watching the older man as he gathers up some of the photographs strewn about on the table top.

Derek stares back at Stiles nervously and reaches down for the list of possible leads, “I’m gonna see if I can get any numbers from from the school staff,” he says quickly, excusing himself from the conference room.

“Right,” Stiles mumbles to himself and reaches up to touch his mouth once his partner’s left the room, confused and lightheaded, “You do that.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Presstilton](http://presstilton.tumblr.com/)


	3. Subs and Betas

Stiles would be lying if he said that he didn’t think about the kiss all night and pretty much all the next morning, even now, he can’t stop thinking about it and constantly wondering _why_.

It doesn’t make any sense to him whatsoever - and what makes it even worse, is the fact that now they’re both being awkward and shit. He can’t even hold the older man’s gaze for longer than a second without feeling like he’s going to die of embarrassment, but he’s literally stuck in the car with the guy, so something’s got to give.

Derek parks at the next lead’s house and turns to Stiles as he shuts off the car.

“I’m in love with you.”

Stiles’s breath hitches in his throat and he very slowly turns his head to look at Derek, eyes wide and mouth gaping in disbelief, “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” Derek repeats, staring at the younger man firmly, “You’re my partner, and I’m not expecting you to change how you feel about me, but… just so you know, so there isn’t any doubt about why I kissed you yesterday - it’s because I’m in love with you.”

Stiles shakes his head in confusion and narrows his brows, heart stuttering all over the place as he swallows down the lump in his throat, “Um,” he says numbly, “Okay…”

He moves his lips to try and form more words, but it takes him a minute to actually get them out, “B-But why?”

“Why **what**?” Derek asks as he frowns.

“Uh,” Stiles blinks slowly and looks down at his lap for a moment, then tentatively meets Derek’s eyes, “Why are you in love with me?” he asks, knowing it’s kind of a stupid question, but he’s sort of in shock.

“There isn’t really a _reason_.”

“There’s no reason you fell in love with me?” Stiles asks, kind of affronted, because he’s never really heard of someone being in love with someone else for no reason at all.

“What do you want me to say?”

“U-Uh, I don’t want you to say anything,” Stiles says softly, “I-I-I just-I don’t understand.”

“Would you rather I lied to you and kept pretending like I don’t feel anything for you at all?”

“No,” Stiles answers, “I didn’t-I never said that, Derek. I just…” he shakes his head and shrugs hopelessly, “I don’t understand is all, I think I’m in shock or-or something.”

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles and huffs, opening his door and climbing out once he’s grabbed his coat. He didn’t know how he expected Stiles to react, but he felt like it was better that he be upfront with his feelings now, before anything else stupid happens. With his luck, Stiles will be asking to be reassigned.

* * *

“I think it’s seriously fucking stupid you don’t have any alcohol in your house right now,” Stiles says as he stands in front of Scott’s fridge, closing his eyes and hoping there will be at least a 6-pack when he opens them.

“Lydia said if she couldn’t have her wine, I couldn’t have my beer,” Scott explains for probably the millionth time, pushing the refrigerator door closed and guiding Stiles to the dining room with his hands on his friend’s shoulders, “I’m getting the feeling you don’t need to be drunk right now, anyway.”

“I’ll second that,” Lydia responds as she turns and offers Stiles a glass of water instead, her other hand on her stomach as she joins them, “And watch your mouth, Heidi said s-h-i-t yesterday.”

“That’s not my fault,” Stiles says and begrudgingly takes the water from Lydia, knowing full well he’s the only one out of the three of them that actually curses a great deal, “I thought you guys said there would be food involved, where’s the food?”

“It’s not finished yet,” Lydia says sternly, taking her seat, “And I know it’s not your fault,” she looks to Scott, “S-h-i-t is daddy’s favorite word.”

Scott grins impishly at Lydia and his eyes drop to her round stomach, flicking back up to meet her beautiful green eyes, “When the little guy gets here, I’ll watch my mouth; I promise.”

Stiles shrugs out from under Scott’s hands and pulls a chair out, then sits down and puts the glass of water on the table, even more miserable watching the two of them look at one another like they’re the only thing one another sees.

“Best friend in crisis here. Can you guys put the stupid moony eyes away?”

“You hush,” Lydia says, giving Stiles a look, “We keep it civil at **work** , at home our eyes can do what they want. Don’t make me eye f-u-c-k him in front of you,” she warns him, “So what’s the problem, did Hale break your phone?”

“No!” Stiles cries out dramatically and thumps his head down against the table, “I wish he would’ve broken my phone,” he says miserably, thumping his forehead a few more times for extra effect, “The asshole kissed me.”

“What?” Scott asks in surprise, although he **really** shouldn’t be, considering he knew this has been coming for some time now.

“Language,” Lydia says threateningly, reaching out and smacking Stiles on the hand, “What did I just say? Spell it out.”

“The a-s-s-h-o-l-e f-u-c-k-i-n-g kissed me,” Stiles repeats, feeling kind of dumb for a moment and he lifts his head to look at the both of them, “Out of nowhere, then just walked away like it didn’t even happen.”

“Did you kiss him back?” Scott asks, ruffling Heidi’s hair when she comes bolting into the dining room.

“No? Why would I kiss him back?”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “Please, I’m still confused why you two haven’t been going at it for months now. Something tells me he would’ve been _really_ gentle with you after you were shot - taking his time, making sure you felt okay…”

“Oh my God, Lydia,” Stiles says and flails, “What is wrong with you? Are you guys not seeing the issue here? Hale and I are friends, partners… and the guy is in love with me.”

“Heidi,” Lydia leans in to look at her daughter, “Tell your godfather that he’s being a dummy head.”

“You’re being a dummy head,” Heidi says sweetly and giggles before hiding her face against Scott’s chest.

Lydia grins and sits back in her seat, “Stiles,” she looks at him then, “What do you want us to tell you? That we didn’t see it coming from a **mile** away?”

“Yes!” Stiles’s eyes widen, “That is exactly what I want you to say. W-What am I supposed to do? I mean, the guy’s my partner, I can’t ignore him. And I can’t just ignore the fact that he literally confessed his love to me.”

Lydia rolls her eyes again, “Just accept it as it is and move the f-u-c-k on, already. He’s probably been in love with you since week one or two, it hasn’t changed a thing. The only difference is now you know. Now stop acting like a whiny Heidi and put it to rest already.”

“You’re so smart, baby,” Scott says affectionately and rests his chin on his fist, grinning at her lovingly before looking at his best friend, “She’s right, dude. If it’s awkward now, it’s because of you, not him.”

Lydia nods and smiles, moving to kiss Heidi’s head and then Scott’s temple, “Exactly,” she looks at Stiles, “You just gotta accept it for what it is and roll with it. I mean, he’s not lacking in the ‘attractive’ department. He’s a grump, but he’s a gorgeous grump. Give the guy a break, he’s got his heartache as it is, you’re just putting salt on the wound by acting petulant.”

“Wow, Lyds, you should be a motivational speaker,” Stiles says sardonically and sighs, shoulders slumping a little, “But I guess you're right-and don’t you dare let it go to your head, you’re already narcissistic enough as is.”

He rubs a hand over his face, “So, I guess I just need to act normal, things don’t need to be any different.”

“Think about a straight man finding out his friend is gay,” Lydia explains, “You’re learning more, but nothing is changing; acting different is just hurtful. Besides, you should be flattered that he's interested,” she makes a motion with her hands, “Now I need to go check on the chicken, I don’t want to burn down the house.”

* * *

Derek practically has to drag himself out of the car as he glances at the shiny silver Saturn Ion in the spot beside his Camaro. He closes the door and meets Stiles around front before moving to the porch of the house.

“I’m not gonna get through the rest of the day,” he mutters.

“Feeling like rot?” Stiles asks and rests his hand against his holster as he looks the car over quickly, then falling in line behind his partner.

“Understatement,” Derek responds shortly as he knocks on the door of the house and grimaces, “I think we came at the wrong time… or… they did.”

“Oh my God,” Stiles chuckles slightly under his breath and moves to stand next to Derek, glancing up at him, “We’re totally cock-blocking people right now, aren’t we?”

Derek nods as he tries not to listen in on the people on the other side, “It’s not the first time I’ve done it,” he admits and looks at Stiles, “Let’s give them a moment to finish before I knock again.”

“You look kinda green around the gills, anyway,” Stiles says, narrowing his brows in concern, “Full moon drain you, buddy?”

Derek stretches and tries to **not** look so sick, “I’d take off the third day if I could,” he says and he’s sure he’s said it before, but he can’t remember, “It’s exhausting, like taking a drug that makes you work out solid for six to nine hours without your say-so.”

“You could’ve stayed at the office; I could’ve come out and done this myself.”

“Not safe. If one of these was him…”

“I’d have my gun on me,” Stiles responds softly and smiles at the taller man.

Derek frowns at the people in the house, still going at it and he sighs, letting out a quick huff of breath, “I think they’re…” he stops and he’s not sure if he should say it aloud, in case it makes them awkward again.

“They’re what?” Stiles asks curiously and starts to grab his gun, “Are they trying to escape out the back? I can cut ‘em off.”

“No,” Derek says, reaching out for Stiles’s hand, “It’s not like that.”

Stiles shakes his head in confusion and slides the gun back in, “Then what is it? They still knocking boots or something? Just knock again, we got a job to do.”

Derek frowns and shakes his head, “They won’t hear us, either way, best just to stay put until she lets them finish.”

“Until she lets them finish?” Stiles furrows his brows, “What are you talking about? What the fuck is going on in there?”

Derek puts his hands in his pockets as his cheeks flush, “She’s… denying their orgasms.”

“Oh,” Stiles says slowly and nods, trying his solid best to keep things normal between them, “That’s a real thing people do? I don’t understand why anyone would wanna deny it.”

“Don’t ask me,” Derek says numbly, “It sounds painful.”

“Right? So what are we gonna do? I know you don’t wanna hang around here until they’re finished, do you?”

“Might as well, I’ve heard worse. One of them could be the perp.”

“If you don’t mind getting a live play by play of what’s going on, then I’m good too, I guess,” Stiles shrugs and moves to sit down on the front steps, waiting for Derek to say when they’re done.

Derek chuckles and moves to sit by his partner, “It doesn’t bother me, I’m used to it. Not-use to hearing it in general, not what’s happening in there.”

“Sometimes I think I pity your wolfy ears,” Stiles says and reaches up to flick one of Derek’s earlobes.

“I’ll take it over about any other ability I have besides healing,” Derek says, “It’s nice to know if we’re walking into something stupid or dangerous.”

“True, I guess,” Stiles shrugs and looks at Derek for a moment, then looks away, “If it was the perp, wouldn’t you be able to smell him in there?”

Derek shakes his head, “They’re all strong, it’s difficult to tell one from the other, often scents mix and you can’t really tell what they’d smell like alone, not from this far away. If I was up close it would be easier.”

“They’re pretty distracted,” Stiles says, smiling as he looks at his partner again, “I could try to hoist you through the bedroom window,” he chuckles.

“It’s fine,” Derek says, “They’re all uh…” he glances at Stiles, “Begging, she’s let the second release, won’t be too much longer.”

“You said ‘they’,” Stiles points out, still amused, “How many people are in there?”

“Three men.”

“And… a woman?”

“Yeah… she’s their Domme.”

“Wow,” Stiles nods, “Get it,” he says approvingly.

Derek chuckles at his partner’s response and then he has to ask: “That’s what you mean by **not** being vanilla, right? That’s… chocolate?”

Stiles chuckles as well and shakes his head, “Not what I’d call chocolate, no… but yeah, that’s definitely what I meant by **not** vanilla. That’s so far from vanilla, wow,” he says again.

“I’ve never done anything like that, but I’ve heard it a few times.”

“You’d be a good Dom,” Stiles says before he can stop himself, but he doesn’t let his expression change any, because he’s determined not to let things get weird, “You’re already bossy, so… yeah.”

Derek feels his cheeks heat again and he looks away, getting silent for a moment before he stands up, “She’s coming into the front room.”

Stiles inwardly chastises himself for his lack of a brain to mouth filter and stands up as well, moving to follow Derek and straightening his shirt out to appear more professional.

Derek knocks on the door and listens to the woman move to it, unlocking the deadbolt and opening it before glancing at the two of them curiously, her chin tilting up when she meets Derek’s eyes.

“Hi,” she says as she smiles, “You don’t _look_ like a sub.”

Stiles snorts and has to bring a fist up to cover his mouth, side-glancing his partner as he fights the urge to laugh.

Derek narrows his brows and glances at his partner.

“But, then again, I can make just about **any** man beg under my heel,” the woman says and opens the door, “Come in.”

Derek clears his throat, “We’re not here to… participate. We’re here to question you about the silver Saturn Ion parked in your driveway.”

Part of Stiles feels guilty for actually wanting to see Derek under the woman’s heel, “If it’s not too much trouble, we’d like to know who the owner is.”

“Who’s asking?” the woman asks them, becoming defensive as she crosses her arms, “You boy’s feds?”

Derek pulls out his badge, “I’m agent Hale, this is my partner, agent Stilinski of the FBI. Who owns the Ion?”

“I do. Why does it matter?”

“Is there any chance you’ve recently let anyone drive your vehicle, ma’am?” Stiles asks, pocketing one of his hands.

The woman shakes her head, “No, no one drives my car but me.”

“None of your… subs?” Derek asks and she shakes her head, “Alright, thank you for your time.”

“Any time,” the woman says, smiling, “And if you two change your mind,” she winks at Stiles, “I always welcome new subs, even if you’ve never done it before, I can be _understanding_.”

Stiles grins weakly and nods, briefly glancing at Derek before looking at the woman again, “Thanks,” he says and turns to head back towards the car, chuckling under his breath.

Derek nods politely and follows after his partner, putting his badge in his pocket as he climbs back into the driver’s side seat.

Stiles is still grinning when he climbs in (the situation was humorous, okay? And if Derek doesn’t think so, then that’s on him). He fastens his seat belt and shakes his head.

“No shame,” he says.

“Hmm?” Derek asks as he starts the car and backs out of the parking spot.

“Her, the woman,” Stiles clarifies, looking at Derek in amusement, “She must really like what she does.”

“Sounded like it,” Derek confirms and starts back off down the road, “She was very… confident, even talking to FBI agents, completely caught off guard.”

“I imagine you’d have to be confident in that line of work.”

“What kind of person prefers to be in the submissive position?” Derek asks suddenly, “Is there a… reason for it?”

“Um,” Stiles purses his lips and he kind of likes that he and Derek are actually conversing about something like this civilly, “I dunno. I mean, I can imagine that subs like to be… taken care of,” he says and that kind of reminds him a little of himself, if he’s being honest, “I think subs look to the Dom to, you know…”

“Like when I took care of you after your wounds?”

“Uh,” Stiles splutters a little bit, because he’s been trying to keep the conversation from taking a turn from civil to awkward, and yet Derek’s veering down that road blindly, “Sort of, I guess. I imagine there’s more to it, but yeah, that’s kind of the general concept, I think.”

Derek nods silently, because it makes more sense from that standpoint, “I get it,” he says as he drives, “There’s something like that with werewolves.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Alphas that take their betas as mates,” Derek explains, “Alphas **are** dominant by nature, and betas are submissive by nature.”

“Oh, cool. Do you feel any different at all now that you’re an alpha?” Stiles asks then.

“My moon cycle is more violent than it was before.”

“That explains why you look so rough today.”

“It hurts,” Derek explains and lets out a huff of breath, “And I constantly feel the need to make a pack, now that I can.”

“I can’t really help you with the pack thing,” Stiles responds, “But if you didn’t think you’d, you know, rip my head off… I could keep you company during the moon cycle. I dunno if that’d help or not, dude.”

Derek shakes his head, “I’m not sure, I could get violent, and I’ve changed in the house a few times in that form… it’s messy.”

“You need to get a storage unit and keep all of your things there, that way you can use the garage if you feel like you’re gonna shift. It’d keep you from doing so much damage to the house.”

“I just need to get used to it,” Derek says, “I’m more worried about work, it was hard enough keeping in that side of me before - but with almost three times the strength now…” he shakes his head, “It’s only a matter of time before I throw someone through a wall. I’m considering quitting the FBI.”

“What?” Stiles asks dejectedly, frowning at the older man, “Y-Y-You can’t, you’re my partner,” he tries to reason.

Derek looks at Stiles, “The Hale case is closed. Boyd’s case, though stale, is more or less solved. I don’t have anything left to work towards now.”

“After all the shit you went through trying to get me back as your partner,” Stiles scoffs softly, “Finally convincing me, now you’re thinking of **quitting**? That’s not fair, I don’t want a new partner, Derek.”

“It’s what would be best for both of us,” Derek says as he parks at the office and turns to Stiles, “You work well enough with Argent.”

“I don’t wanna _work with Argent_ ,” Stiles responds and raises his brows, trying not to express how hurt he actually is, “You,” he says firmly, “ **You’re** my fucking partner, okay?”

Derek watches Stiles closely and then takes his keys from the ignition, “I’ll stay until we solve the Poetry Killer case, and then I’m done.”

Stiles realizes his rational reaction to this is just an ideal thought when his eyes start watering, and he clenches his jaw as he wrenches the car door open, “Fine,” he says angrily as he climbs out, slamming the door shut, “Fucking quit, see if I care.”

Derek watches his partner leave and he knows he’s upset Stiles, even hurt him, and the last comment is ironic because he’d have to be blind not to see how much the younger man **does** care. It’s just not in the way he wants Stiles to, which isn’t fair to him, but what else does Derek have?

Both cases are more or less solved, and he lost his fire, his passion for the job years ago. There's nothing left for him where he is currently, nothing at all.

And now that he’s an alpha, that basic need to make a pack is almost overwhelming. It’s not really something that he could pursue if he was working for the FBI.

* * *

“Do you have the photos of Courtney Fulks’ bathroom?” Derek asks as he checks through the things on his desk warily.

“Uh, yeah, big guy, sec,” Stiles says and pulls his bottom drawer out, withdrawing a manila folder before standing and moving to hand it to Derek.

Derek grabs the folder and looks at Stiles, “It could be nothing,” he mutters as he opens the folder and flicks through them, freezing and his eyes widen before he stands up, all but dumping the rest of the photos onto the floor as he moves around to Stiles’s side to show him both of the pictures from both crime scenes, of the sink in front of the mirror.

He points to the opened lipstick in each photo, “That’s not a coincidence.”

Stiles looks the photos over carefully and then lifts his head up, looking at Derek with narrowed brows, “Definitely not, but what kinda message is it? You think he put ‘em there?”

Derek nods silently, standing back upright and looking at them, “We should check each house, ask the parents,” he says, “They might have moved things, but maybe they remember doing it-”

He stops when he catches a jarringly familiar scent and recognizes a woman’s voice, his hearing shifting through the office to focus on her. Derek frowns, turning to the elevator where a blonde woman is standing, talking to a couple agents, “Stiles…”

“Hmm?” Stiles observes his partner’s odd expression and turns to glance in the direction Derek’s looking, face paling and body going numb when he sees Heather, “Shit,” he breathes to himself, turning his head back quickly to look at the werewolf.

“W-Why the fuck is she here?” he asks, even though he doesn’t expect Derek to know.

Derek shakes his head, “She’s talking about you,” he says as he tries to listen in.

“Ugh,” Stiles grumbles and keeps his head turned, maybe she won’t see him, “She shouldn’t be here,” he says.

Derek swallows tightly and watches in disgust as she rubs her stomach, “She’s saying the baby’s yours.... but she knows she’s lying.”

“That **bitch** ,” Stiles hisses and slams his hand down against his desk, trying to keep from getting so angry, “Just-Just let me know if she looks this way.”

“She’s asking for directions to your desk,” Derek responds as he tries to listen closer.

“Nope,” Stiles shakes his head then and moves to grab a hold of Derek’s arm, all but dragging him to the bathroom with him.

He turns to the older man once they’re in there and raises his brows, “I can’t deal with her, c-can you…” he huffs out a breath, because he doesn’t want Derek to think he’s taking advantage of him or his feelings, “Can you make her leave?”

“Gladly,” Derek says as he hears her call Stiles her ‘fiance’ before he moves to leave the bathroom, walking back through the office, out the front doors and to the elevator. He doesn’t stop when he reaches Heather, grabbing her by her arm and pulling her into the elevator before hitting the button for the ground floor as he turns on her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my fiance,” Heather says and puts her hands on her hips, acting affronted as she looks up at Derek, “Where is he? I want to show him a picture of our last sonogram.”

Derek narrows his eyes, “Have you completely lost your **mind**?” he asks as he stares down at her, “You cheated on him, and then you broke up with him and kicked him out when he proposed.”

He snatches Heather’s wrist and takes the ring from her finger, “This isn’t yours, he’s not your _fiance_.”

“Give me that back,” Heather shouts and punches at Derek’s chest in a feeble attempt to get her ring back, “It’s mine, he gave it to me. This is none of your business, he’s the father of my baby.”

“No, he’s not,” Derek responds, louder than her as he dodges her fist easily and holds her arms to keep her from hurting herself, “And you know he isn’t. This is a work place, and I’m his partner, and he had to move in with **me** after you kicked him out. Have some self-respect and leave before you embarrass yourself any further than you already have.”

Heather huffs indignantly and she slowly smirks up at Derek, the twist of her lips mean and almost out of place, “Let me guess, you finally got what you wanted, huh?” she asks, “Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but he was mine first. He’s never gonna be over me.”

“He’s been over you for months,” Derek responds, not bothering to correct her, “And I couldn’t care less what you think you are to him, everyone is someone else’s first; what matters is that I’m his last.”

The elevator doors open and Heather puts her hand on her stomach, rubbing it gently as she raises a brow at the large man, “Don’t be surprised if he ends up crawling back to me,” she says and saunters off, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Derek punches the button in the elevator and smiles to himself. He walks out once he reaches the offices and ignores the pointed looks and rude remarks people are saying about him as he makes his way back to the bathroom.

He moves to the stall he knows Stiles is hiding in and knocks on it, “She’s gone.”

“You sure?” Stiles says and opens the bathroom stall, peeking his head out to look up at Derek, “You got rid of her?”

“She’s driving away as we speak.”

Stiles flings the stall door open and barrels out, throwing his arms around the older man gratefully, “Dude, I owe you so much, wow. Thank you.”

Derek stills, but hugs Stiles back, trying not to think too much about it, “I also got something back for you.”

Stiles draws back and looks up at his partner in confusion, “What?”

“This,” Derek says and lifts the ring into Stiles’s line of sight as he offers it to him, “She was wearing it, showing it to people.”

“What kinda person has nerve like that?” Stiles shakes his head and takes the ring, looking it over before glancing at the werewolf, “Thanks again, I spent like two months salary on this damn thing. How much you think I could get out of it now?”

“More than she’s worth, likely,” Derek says and pulls back, “She’s just realizing she made the biggest mistake of her life. I’m not surprised she tried something. I won’t be surprised if she does again, but I think I might have been able to avoid that for you.”

Stiles smiles slowly at Derek and looks down at the ring for a moment, then puts it in his pocket before meeting the werewolf’s pale eyes again, “Have I said thanks yet?” he asks and chuckles, pushing his partner out of the bathroom, “Come on, let’s get back to work.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Presstilton](http://presstilton.tumblr.com/)


	4. I Found Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek stares intensely at the enlarged photos of the lipsticks, setting them aside and sifting through Mandy Chapman’s photos. He hands over the one for the struggle in the front room, reaching down to take the one in Stiles’s hand and matching that with one of his own before looking at the next, “I doubt we’ll find anything else we’ve missed.”

“You were the one who insisted we do this,” Stiles points out and shakes his head, “This reminds me of those things I used to do in school where I had to find the differences in each picture.” In all honesty, though, even if looking over these pictures is a moot point, it’s kind of nice to be back in the house he’d grown so accustomed to.

“It’s better to get familiar with the scenes, that way if a third victim comes up, we know what to look for, and what would be different.”

“So it’s essentially like studying for a pop quiz,” Stiles says and reaches up to loosen his tie a little, “That’s a Hell of a way to look at it… you have any beer?”

“I don’t drink."

“I’m gonna have to start giving you money just to keep beer on hand. You know, for when I come over; I like beer.”

“I’ll have to buy a second fridge... I’ve already been considering it.”

“Why would you need a second fridge?” Stiles asks, eyes following the way his partner scratches his thick facial hair, “A six pack wouldn’t take up an entire fridge, Derek.”

“I’m aware, but there’s already no space as it is… I eat a lot,” Derek sits back and turns, reaching across to the left side of the bed for the manila folder there, sifting through the photos in it, “Now that I’m an alpha… I eat even more.”

“I don’t even know how that’s possible,” Stiles snorts and snags one of the photos from Derek, comparing it to one of the pictures to his left, “You ate like, three times your own body weight before.”

“I’m getting bigger in general,” Derek motions to his shirt, “This one was loose a few months ago.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums to himself and lifts his head, noting how the shirt pulls taut across Derek’s shoulders and he swallows subtly, “Yeah, looks a little tight.”

Derek nods and turns over the two photos he’s comparing before moving to the next two, “I’ve had to throw away most of my dress shirts, put one on a month ago, opened the front door and then buttons started popping off…”

Stiles snorts at that and imagines Derek hulking out or something, chuckling slightly, “Wish I could’ve seen it,” he says, and it’s not really a lie. He misses being around the older man so much, misses the snarky banter and the good food.

“There’ve been other things,” Derek says thoughtfully, “My waist size, my shoe size, even my wrists,” he sighs in annoyance and turns the two photos over, “If I start growing upwards, people will notice.”

“As for now, though, they’ll probably just assume you’re beefing up on steroids,” Stiles says and catches himself looking up from the photos, observing the way his partner has his sleeves rolled back, forearms thick and… _hairy_.

“They wouldn’t be that far off, technically. Becoming an alpha - upgrading - it’s not very different. You saw me when I changed, that form is massive.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says numbly, prying his gaze from Derek in order to focus more on work. He’s observed the older man’s physique before and chalked it up to general curiosity, but it doesn’t feel the same when he looks at the werewolf now.

“Do you have the one of Courtney’s desk, where the CD player was?”

“Mhm,” Stiles mumbles and sifts through the ones in front of him, pulling it out and offering it to Derek, eyes mindlessly darting up to his partner’s soft black hair and his fingers almost twitch, because he misses the feel of it.

“Thanks,” Derek says as he takes it and stares at the belongings spread out on the surfaces, wetting his lips as he sits back.

Stiles’s brows furrow as he watches the older man’s tongue peek out and he sighs, heart fluttering suddenly and he forces his gaze away before his staring becomes too obvious.

He doesn’t really know what’s wrong with him, but every time he looks at Derek, it’s not even in a remotely platonic way. Which in turn makes him wonder why he’s suddenly looking at his partner differently, after all this time.

Stiles’s ADHD hasn’t been this bad in years and now that he’s questioning why, his mind is kind of on a tangent, all of his memories with Derek replaying in slow motion. And when he actually thinks back on certain things, he wonders how long he’s been so oblivious - and not just ignorant of Derek’s feelings for him, but of his own for the older man.

It kind of suddenly makes sense, why he gets so worked up over certain things regarding his partner, why he misses the older man when they’re not together, or why his chest constricts around the werewolf sometimes.

He’s stupidly in love with the guy and he doesn’t even know how long it’s been that way, but judging from some of the prior conversations he’s had with Scott, Lydia and Allison, he’d say it’s been a while now.

Derek looks up from his photos to the ones in Stiles’s hands as the boy’s heart starts racing, “What’s wrong?” he asks in concern, “Did you find something?” he reaches out to take them from the younger man.

Stiles doesn’t even bother looking at the pictures, he’s too fixated on Derek’s ruggedly handsome face and his stupid brows, even the older man’s _teeth_.

“Yeah,” he mutters vaguely, “I found something,” he reaches out and twirls his hand in the werewolf’s loose tie, then pulls his partner closer to press their lips together.

Derek’s completely caught off guard, eyes widening as he starts to pull away and he gasps into Stiles’s mouth, the photos dropping from his hands as he tries to kiss back at the awkward angle of his body.

Stiles tilts his head a little and deepens the kiss at once, eager to taste Derek, sharp breaths coming from his nose as he licks into the werewolf’s mouth. He tightens his hand in the older man’s tie some more and moves at once, clambering to his knees in order to make the position more comfortable, his other hand coming up to grab Derek’s hair.

Derek growls in surprise, arms reaching out to wrap around Stiles’s waist as he yanks the younger man into his lap, his fist curling in the back of his partner’s shirt as he _still_ has to duck his head slightly to kiss Stiles.

Stiles feels the anxiousness thrum throughout him, body practically vibrating with it as he drops the hand from Derek’s tie to wrap his arms around his partner’s neck, tugging him closer as his fingertips scratch the nape of his neck.

Derek reaches down, grabbing Stiles’s thigh and pulling it up to wrap his legs around his waist, mouth opening, tongue running out over the boy’s and he groans eagerly, his heart racing wildly as he tastes Stiles, his hand lifting the younger man’s shirt out of his pants, fingers pressing underneath.

“Oh god,” Stiles moans at the contact and mindlessly rolls his hips down, panting against the werewolf’s lips as he realizes how badly he wants this - and not just some quick fuck, but Derek, _all_ of Derek.

Derek pulls back slightly to look down at Stiles as he tries to breathe calmly, leaning in again to kiss him as he shifts his hips up and his other hand drops to Stiles’s waist, holding him down and growling, “Do that again,” he says as his arms flex, the front of his shirt pulling even tighter and he tries to ignore it.

Stiles grinds down against Derek, length going from halfway erect to as hard as a rock in seconds and his mouth drops open, eyes hazy as he stares at the werewolf’s face. One hand moving from the nape of Derek’s neck, he touches the thick scruff of his beard and presses his lips insistently to his partner’s, “Don’t take your hands off of me.”

Derek smirks and kisses Stiles back, taking his bottom lip between his teeth roughly as the hand on the younger man’s back grips him firmly, holding him close as he tries to shift his hips upwards the best he can.

He breaks the kiss, pressing his nose to Stiles’s neck and scenting him as he gasps sharply, “ **Stiles**.”

“Yeah,” Stiles whimpers and arches his neck for the older man, the sharp intake of Derek’s breath causing his cock to throb and press insistently against his slacks, “You smell that, big guy?” he asks breathily, rolling his hips down, “That’s me wanting you; I want you, Derek.”

Derek growls in approval and pulls back to look Stiles in the eyes, reaching to cup the younger man’s cheek, thumb brushing the corner of the boy’s lips as he swallows, “You do,” he says numbly, his palm moving up Stiles’s back, touching him as much as he can as he searches his partner’s eyes and tries to fight the urge to mark Stiles and take what is his.

“Yeah,” Stiles leans his cheek into the warm palm, turning his head slightly to kiss the pad of the werewolf’s thumb, “I do.” He smiles then and raises his brows, “So buy some fucking beer next time you’re out, got it?”

Derek chuckles and leans in to kiss Stiles again, “Shut up, Stilinski,” he says as he licks at the younger man’s lips.

* * *

Derek sits silently across from Stiles the next morning, his papers spread out in front of him as he tries to transfer all the known information onto the computer - he’s never been a fan of the thing in general, so it’s typically the last thing he does during a case (and considering this one is now two victims deep, it’s time he started).

He tries to appear resolute and passive, even though it’s difficult when Stiles is literally a couple footsteps away, “Can you hand me Courtney Fulks’ file?”

Stiles looks up from his desk and glances at Derek for a moment, everything in him wanting to sling himself across their desks to just kiss him or something.

It’s practically unfathomable how they’ve been skirting around this so long, but now that it’s an actual thing, it’s near impossible for him to focus on anything else other than how easy it’d be for him to just crawl under their desks and get formally acquainted with his partner’s knot.

“Yeah,” he says numbly, handing it to Derek with a small quirk of his lips.

Derek reaches out for the file and takes it from Stiles as calmly as he can before he meets the younger man’s eyes. He thought his growing infatuation for his partner was bad enough **before** he knew what it was like to kiss Stiles, and that his hatred for being stuck in the office had reached its peak about two years ago, but apparently not.

“Thanks,” he says shortly and looks back down, reaching up to loosen his tie a little.

“ _Don’t you dare do that_ ,” Stiles says in a harsh whisper. It’s too late though, he’s already uncomfortably aroused, just from sitting there watching the older man.

Derek raises his brows and then almost groans at the sudden change in his partner’s scent, “ **Stiles** , **stop** ,” he says firmly, dropping his hand from his tie, “ **Think about something else**.”

Stiles gapes a little bit, because he doesn’t know how that’s even possible, but he tries. He lowers his head and pointedly stares at the files on his desk, hands cradling his head as he thinks about dead kittens, maggots and whatnot - but the second he risks a glance back up at Derek, it’s all for naught.

“I can’t,” he admits lowly.

“We’ve got six more hours of this,” Derek responds, “You’re gonna have to,” Although he’s tempted to take off early himself, just to get his hands back on Stiles. He swallows as he stares at Stiles, feeling like a dog waiting for it’s owner to throw the ball - he’s just as bad as his partner, if not worse.

Stiles smiles at the way Derek’s looking at him and his heart’s racing like crazy, but that’s pretty much been a constant thing since he kissed the older man last night, “You’re staring,” he points out softly, gaze dropping to Derek’s lips as he moves his foot under the desk and runs it up the side of his partner’s calve.

“I’m not,” Derek says back breathlessly before looking down at the papers and trying to continue typing, but the moment he feels Stiles’s foot touch him, it’s like his entire body lights up, “ _Stiles_ ,” he mutters weakly and closes his eyes.

Stiles’s smile widens and the soft tone of Derek’s voice causes his arousal to spike, “Six hours,” he reminds him, knowing he’s going to be aching by the time they get out of the office.

“Think you can handle that, big guy?” he asks, moving his foot higher, teasing the inseam of Derek’s slacks.

Derek glances down and shifts his seat closer to the desk, dropping his left hand to reach down and grab Stiles’s foot before looking to his partner once more as his fingers push up the pants leg to touch his skin, “ _Think **you** can_?” he asks lowly, reaching up with his right to loosen his tie some more.

“ _I’m already hard, are you trying to kill me?_ ” Stiles whispers with wide eyes, the feel of Derek’s hand against his skin sending sparks of pleasure along his spine as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“You think this is bad,” Derek says as he runs his hand over the firm muscle of Stiles’s calve, “I have to smell you. The only thing that’s stopping me from doing anything more is the fact that we’re at work, and I’ve already caused enough discomfort in the bureau.”

Stiles reaches down subtly and presses the heel of his palm to his dick, trying to will it down as he looks away from Derek, glancing around at everyone else in the office. Oddly enough, staring at Whittemore for too long seems to do the trick and he finally pulls his leg back to stand up, quirking a brow at his partner.

“Think I have to use the restroom,” he says suggestively, then heads towards the bathroom.

Derek waits for a few minutes, trying to will himself **not** to go after his partner, but his wolf wins out. If they do this, maybe he can last _six more hours_. He puts a bunch of blank papers into a manila folder and stands from his desk like he’s going to make copies, something that doesn’t look as suspicious as Stiles did when he got up.

He walks calmly to the bathroom, listening closely and being grateful at once that his partner is the only one in it, so when he walks in and locks the door, they’ll actually be alone.

Stiles opens one of the stall doors and looks out when he hears the bathroom door locking, grinning wide as he moves to the older man at once, hands reaching up to pull Derek down into a desperate kiss.

Derek drops the folder, wrapping his arms around Stiles and quickly tugging his shirt from his pants so that he can touch the younger man’s skin. His height doesn’t help, and the way he has to lean down is awkward, but he doesn’t particularly care.

“Mm,” Stiles hums and smiles against Derek’s lips, hands gripping the older man’s shoulders firmly, “We should’ve been doing this months ago,” he says, all but hopping up to wrap his legs around his partner’s waist.

“Yeah,” Derek says as he tries to catch his breath, holding Stiles up easily and kissing down his neck, the hand on the younger man’s back running over the skin as he groans weakly, fingers brushing the scar from Stiles’s stab wound and he **almost** bites the younger man’s neck to start marking him, but manages to catch himself and pull back to look into Stiles’s eyes.

“Took you long enough.”

“It did,” Stiles confirms and he kind of wants to kick himself in the ass for not seeing it all sooner.

With one arm wrapped around Derek’s neck, he pulls his other back to touch his partner’s face as he kisses him again, lips lingering against the werewolf’s as he whimpers, “How am I supposed to work when all I can think about is your stupid hands on my body?”

“By knowing it’s the same way for me? It’s just six more hours, we can wait that long.”

Stiles sighs quietly and tilts his head to kiss Derek once more, hand still on the werewolf’s cheek as he drops his head to the older man’s shoulder.

“Okay,” he concedes, arms moving to wrap around his partner’s neck, hugging him tightly for a moment.

Derek sets Stiles back down, stopping long enough to cup the younger man’s entire face in both palms, staring at him longingly before kissing his forehead, and then his lips, “It’s just six hours, Stiles.”

“Might as well be twenty,” Stiles mutters and pushes up on his tiptoes, stealing another kiss before fixing his shirt, pushing it back down into his slacks, “If you wanna make it easier on me, you’d fix your tie.”

Derek chuckles and does so, tightening the tie back up before bending down to clean the papers off the floor.

“I should go out first,” Stiles says, looking at himself in the mirror for a second - anyone with half a brain is going to know that something was up, because his lips are pink and kiss swollen. He reaches up and cards his fingers through his hair, then turns to Derek, offering the older man a weak grin as he moves to the door, softly patting the werewolf on the ass before he heads back out.

Derek straightens and glances back as Stiles leaves, slowly smiling and putting the papers back into the manila folder as he walks out after his partner.

* * *

Derek gets up from his desk the moment work is over, reaching out for his holster and his coat as he tries not to appear as anxious as he is to get home already. He’s not sure what Stiles’s plans are for the night, but chances are they don’t differ much from his own.

He walks past the younger man, touching Stiles’s shoulder and waiting at the glass doors as he watches Stiles scribble down a few notes from a lead he’s on the phone with.

The younger man closes his eyes for a moment after Derek touches him and focuses on the lead, trying to wrap things up as quickly as possible. When the older man on the other line is finally done spouting off things they’re already aware of, he hangs up and puts a few things on his desk away, then stands to grab his belongings before joining his partner. He doesn’t move close right away, though, opting to keep some distance so it doesn’t look so suspicious.

Derek smirks knowingly, walking into the elevator as most of the other agents pile in and he steps inside, taking the far corner like he normally does and reaches out for the younger man’s arm to tug him in close, glancing down at Stiles as they stand side by side.

“Long day, huh?” Stiles asks, eyes rapt on Derek’s face as the elevator lowers to the ground floor. Everyone else’s backs are turned to them, so he reaches out subtly and touches the older man’s waist.

“Mm,” Derek mutters gruffly as he closes his eyes and concentrates on the feeling of the other man’s hand.

It’s a gross understatement, Derek thinks the only other hours he’s experienced that have been as long as the past six are when Stiles was stabbed, and then when he was shot… and when he was packing his things and moving out of the house.

Stiles continues to watch his partner, the corner of his mouth quirking up at the gruff sound and when the elevator doors open, he tugs once on Derek’s shirt, then let’s go, giving the werewolf a pointed look.

Derek follows after his partner, and thankfully his size causes most people to stay back and let him get out of the way first. It’s tempting to just snatch Stiles up then and there and carry him to the vehicles, because any time spent walking just feels like it takes too long.

He moves closer to Stiles, glancing down at him as they move towards their vehicles, but Stiles doesn’t go to his jeep like he normally does and instead walks to the Camaro with him.

Stiles rests his palms on the top of the car impatiently, “Hurry up, big guy.”

Derek lifts a brow, but does so, even though he’s a little confused, “Are we… taking mine?”

“Yeah,” Stiles confirms and pulls the passenger's side door open before sliding in, “I don’t really see the point of taking both. Besides, if we take just the one, I don’t have to wait to touch you.”

Derek opens his own door and slides in, tossing his things in the back as he pulls on his seat belt. While he likes the idea of being in the same car, and being able to touch one another, he doesn’t understand the point of taking one so he has to drive Stiles back to work after it’s dark, but he doesn’t complain about it.

Stiles glances around to make sure no ones watching before he leans across to kiss Derek’s cheek, fingers pulling the older man’s chin towards him so he can kiss his mouth as well, lips moving from the supple flesh to nip at his partner’s neck, “Get us home, now.”

Derek groans as Stiles kisses him and he almost leans across the seats but he wills himself to stay put, pulling out of his spot quickly and all but peeling out of the parking lot as he reaches across the seats and sets his hand on Stiles’s left thigh.

Stiles keeps his body at an angle, leaning more towards Derek and when his partner touches his leg, he reaches down and takes the large hand, moving it higher and placing it on the outline of his erection.

“This is what you do to me,” he says, watching Derek’s face carefully.

The alpha gasps and nearly swerves off the road as he looks at Stiles, swallowing and shifting his hand slightly as he meets his partner’s eyes.

Stiles keeps his hand over Derek’s and lifts his hips from the seat, pushing the werewolf’s hand more firmly against his groin and his head lolls back, the friction causing a soft moan to spill from his lips.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek breathes, eyes wide as he stares at the younger man, barely even looking at the road as he forces his partner back down in his seat easily, but continues to shift his palm against Stiles’s length as he smells the strong scent of the other man’s arousal.

Stiles reaches up with his free hand and loosens his tie, unbuttoning the top button of his dress shirt as he wets his lips, gaze shifting back and forth from the firm palm against his dick and the older man next to him, “It’s ridiculous how much I want you right now.”

Derek nods silently as he tries to look back at the road as he turns, “I know,” he says, completely able to empathize. He’s never experienced anything quite like it, his left hand aching to join his right, his entire body itching to be against Stiles’s.

“You don’t live that far from the bureau, dude,” Stiles utters lowly and his hips shift against the hand, cock throbbing in the confines of his slacks, “Hurry up,” he whines.

“I **am** ,” Derek responds, just as impatient as his partner is and he smirks as he watches Stiles, turning onto his street, then to his house, parking in the driveway and taking his hand from Stiles as he turns to grab his things and climb out of the car.

Stiles follows in a hurry, chuckling under his breath as he all but jogs to Derek’s door with a crooked gait, slacks pinching his erection, “Come on,” he says, jiggling the front door handle anxiously as he looks at the werewolf.

Derek locks the car as he joins Stiles and unlocks the front door, but each lock takes a second longer as he glances at the younger man, practically teasing him with the last lock before he pushes the door open and steps in, taking off his shoes at the door.

Stiles tosses his stuff down on the couch and slips his shoes off as well, gaze not leaving Derek as his smile softens some, eyes glinting suggestively as he reaches up to pull his tie off altogether.

“Come here,” he jerks his chin for Derek to come closer, reaching down to pull his own shirt out of his slacks.

Derek locks the door back and moves to Stiles, his hands reaching out to grab the younger man’s waist and tug him in close as he slides his palms under, leaning down to kiss him finally. He’s still not good at the _kissing_ part in general, his height being an unusual disadvantage as he tries to keep both their feet on the ground.

Stiles leans up into the kiss eagerly, trying to make up for the distance some and his hands move down along the older man’s chest, groaning as he feels the thick, firm muscles beneath before loosening the werewolf’s tie. He pulls it off mindlessly and drops it to the floor, fingers working hurriedly to unbutton his partner’s work shirt, tugging it out of his pants when he reaches the bottom buttons.

“Your body is-it’s amazing,” he breathes into Derek’s mouth.

Derek smiles at the comment as he finally finishes unbuttoning Stiles’s shirt as well, pushing it off his shoulders and running his palm over the lean muscles - the younger man is better put together than he is, compact, not as large, with long fingers and wide shoulders - he could definitely say the same about Stiles’s body, but he doesn’t. It’s probably obvious as he leans down to kiss the soft skin, his hands touching everything he can as he groans in approval and pulls Stiles closer.

“Shirt off,” Stiles mumbles numbly, pushing at the fabric, but it gets stuck on the older man’s large arms. He’s never really felt like this, so pent up with his nerves bouncing all over the place and he actually thinks he might start whining if he doesn’t get the fabric off of Derek in the next two seconds.

Derek reaches back to take his shirt off himself, careful not to rip it but then growling as he drops it on the floor, reaching back out to Stiles and dropping his hands to take off his belt.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Stiles says, glancing down to watch Derek’s hands, eyes flitting up to his face, “The growly thing, kinda reminds me of that time you put me on the counter in the kitchen,” he admits, hands moving out to remove his partner’s belt as well.

Derek lifts a brow as he leans in to lick at Stiles’s lips and he unbuttons the younger man’s pants, “During my heat? I barely remember it.”

“I do,” Stiles responds and his fingers fumble on the button of his partner’s slacks, “I don’t think I could forget it if I tried. I was like, equal parts terrified and horny. You kept scenting me, you even licked my neck… you should do that, like right now.”

“We do it before we mark you,” Derek says, looking at Stiles, then his eyes drop to the younger man’s neck and he pulls Stiles against him as he turns to whisper in his ear, “ _When we’re wanting to mate_.”

He smirks and drops his head, pressing his nose to Stiles’s skin and scenting him, breathing him in deep as his hands push down his partner’s pants.

“Oh my God,” Stiles squeaks breathlessly and can’t help the way he tilts his head, all but offering himself to the older man as he finally get’s Derek’s pants undone, pulling the zipper down with a trembling hand.

“Y-You wanna mate me?” he asks, vaguely remembering the conversation he had with the werewolf about wanting to settle down.

Derek chuckles as he runs his tongue along Stiles’s skin, to his ear, “I’ve been wanting to mate you for a **while** ,” he admits, pulling back to look at Stiles as he pushes his own pants down and steps out of them, helping the younger man out of his own as he leans in to scent the other side of his neck.

“ **Oh** , oh-that’s…” Stiles shivers slightly and groans, fingertips curling in the elastic waistband of Derek’s boxers, “That’s something I could seriously get used to-and as much as I want you to continue, you need to stop for like, maybe a minute or so because I’m about to pull your boxers down and I seriously just need to focus all of my attention on your dick right now,” he says, all in one rushed breath.

Derek pulls back and narrows his eyes at Stiles in confusion, unsure of what the younger man means exactly but he straightens up, waiting and watching him patiently.

Stiles pulls the boxers down just a little, enough for the older man’s pubic hair to peek out and he looks up at Derek, wetting his lips before looking back down and lowering them completely.

His eyes widen at once and he lets go, the fabric falling by itself to pool around Derek’s ankles and he nods silently for a solid minute until he can actually find his voice, “Y-Y-You’re _**big**_ ,” he says, and honestly, he doesn’t know what the fuck he was expecting - at least the guy is proportionate.

“And that’s-” he shakes his head, “That’s so not gonna fit.”

Derek smirks at the younger man’s response and lifts Stiles’s chin to look him in the eyes, “It’ll fit,” he says in reassurance, and while there **are** doubts, and precautionary measures that need to be taken care of beforehand, he doesn’t really question it otherwise.

Stiles finds himself nodding at Derek, mouth slightly gaping and he looks back down, hand reaching out mindlessly to brush the back of his knuckles against the thick length, “‘Bout damn time I got to see your dick, you’ve only seen mine like a million times now.”

Derek pulls Stiles back in, leaning low to kiss him and tug his boxers down, one hand grabbing the younger man’s waist as he slides the other along Stiles’s stomach, lower as he brushes his fingers through the soft happy trail and, as much as he wants to taste everything he can, he’s still at a significant height, so he waits.

He presses a quick kiss to Stiles’s shoulder before lifting him and carrying him into the back bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot as he moves to the bed and lays the younger man down, climbing atop him and holding himself up as he lets out a huff of breath.

Stiles stares up at the larger man and lets his palms smooth down his shoulders and biceps, searching Derek’s face as he spreads his legs some to accustom the width of the werewolf’s hips.

“When I said that I wanted you,” he starts softly, glancing down between their bodies briefly, “You know I didn’t just mean sex, right?” he asks, because it’s vital to him that the older man understands just _how much_ he wants.

“What did you mean?” Derek asks as he runs his palm along Stiles’s side, looking him in the eyes as he shifts to accommodate their height difference so that he can meet the younger man’s gaze without Stiles constantly having to look up.

Stiles reaches up and smooths his right palm against Derek’s beard, sighing after a moment, “You better not fucking roll your eyes at me or make fun of me if I tell you,” he says pointedly, “I know you, Hale, and I know how dismissive you can be.”

Derek lifts his arms, settling his elbows on either sides of Stiles’s head to stare at him firmly, “This is different. What did you mean?”

“I meant that…” Stiles starts and lifts his right leg, brushing the back of his calve down Derek’s ass to his thigh, “I want all of you. Good looks, questionable personality,” he chuckles weakly, “Even the bitter, broken parts of you that I know I’ll never be able to fix. I’m crazy about you, dude.”

Derek listens silently and reaches up to run his fingers through the wild, soft brown hair atop Stiles’s head as he leans down to brush his nose along the younger man’s cheek, “Okay,” he says as he meets his partner’s eyes again before kissing him once more.

“Good,” Stiles breathes out against Derek’s lips and arches his body against the werewolf’s, “Now that that’s out of the way, onward with the orgasms, yeah?” he asks, grinning and pulling the older man’s bottom lip between his teeth teasingly.

Derek growls in approval and drops his left hand to grab Stiles’s right hip, pulling him up as he curls his body, knees sliding up on the sheets as their lengths brush together and it’s a struggle to keep his mouth against Stiles’s, the younger man’s smaller body flat on the bed as he lifts Stiles’s chin and wraps his other arm under his torso, palm against the back of his partner’s neck, fingertips brushing along his skin and through the soft hairs he can reach.

Stiles gasps against Derek’s mouth and his palms press firmly to the top of the older man’s back, trying to keep him close as he wiggles his hips some, trying to get some more friction.

“You’re so fucking _big_ ,” he says, and yeah, it’s kind of obvious, but he’s never really had his hands on the werewolf like this before.

Derek chuckles and runs his hand between them, touching the hard, throbbing length as he looks at Stiles, “It doesn’t make things easy,” he mutters as he wraps his fingers around the younger man’s cock and kisses along his jawline.

Stiles groans pitifully and tries to look down, pupils dilating the moment he sees the huge hand around him, “Your hands are massive,” he points out and reaches down, taking Derek’s cock as well and maneuvering it into his partner’s hand with his own, “I wanna feel you, too.”

Derek nods and carefully tugs their lengths together, his hips shifting and he gasps, wanting to press his body flat to Stiles’s and growling in frustration because he can’t. His lips brush the side of his partner’s temple and he sighs because at least there’s _some_ sense of relief, and it’s honestly more than he’d expected for a while.

“Mm,” Stiles hums and his head rolls back a little against the bed, one hand moving around Derek’s torso and he rubs his thumb against the older man’s left nipple as he lifts his hips into the grip.

“It’s not gonna take long,” he tells him, brushing his nose against the werewolf’s, “Especially not after thinking about it all day.”

“I’ve never experienced a longer day,” Derek says and finally stops, pulling back and laying down on the bed beside Stiles, tugging him in close on his side, pressing the younger man’s back to his chest as he huffs.

He reaches down, curling his body against his partner’s as he spreads Stiles’s legs. He glances at the younger man’s face and smirks as he runs his hand over the younger man’s cock, past his balls to grab his own length, taking the two together once more as he sighs, “That’s better.”

“Oh,” Stiles looks down and then lifts his chin to look back at Derek with wide eyes, “Yeah, t-that’s- _yeah_ ,” he agrees and reaches back with one of his hands, palm smoothing down his partner’s back and stopping when he reaches the ridiculous swell of the werewolf’s ass, groaning as he squeezes the flesh shamelessly.

Derek drops his head to rest his chin on Stiles’s shoulder, his scruff rubbing against the younger man’s skin as he arches his hips, sliding their lengths together in his palm and his mouth drops open, his body shaking slightly as he moans and turns to scent Stiles’s neck.

“Derek,” Stiles utters weakly and the way the older man snuffles against his skin pushes him so close to his orgasm that it’s overwhelming, causing him to rock his hips a little, “Oh God.”

Derek lifts his brows at the sound of the younger man’s voice, his other hand reaching up to touch the boy’s stomach, gently brushing the scar left from the bullet wound and he pulls the flesh of Stiles’s shoulder into his mouth, teeth scraping carefully along his skin as Derek marks him.

Stiles’s blunt fingernails dig into Derek’s skin, knowing full well that it won’t hurt him in the slightest and he clenches his eyes shut, mouth popping open wide as he gasps and comes, spine tingling as his toes curl and his hips instinctively move back against his partner’s groin, “Shit, sorry,” he breathes, chest heaving.

“Hmm?” Derek mutters as he pulls his lips from the younger man’s skin, leaning in to drag his scruff along Stiles’s neck as he turns into him, “Why?” he asks as his own hips move as well, his frame shaking as he takes in the strong scent of Stiles’s release.

“For coming so soon,” Stiles explains and looks down, hand moving to tease the thick, plush cap of Derek’s cock, smearing his own come against the heated flesh, “You just had me wound up is all,” he says, fingers moving past Derek’s hand to touch the werewolf’s knot.

Derek’s eyes widen and he growls, his arm wrapping around Stiles’s waist and squeezing him close, carefully, but as firmly as possible as he buries his face against the younger man’s neck.

“Don’t apologize for that,” he manages out as he pants and arches into the touch of Stiles’s fingers. He lets their lengths go, reaching his hand to his mouth and tasting the younger man’s seed.

“Oh my God,” Stiles mumbles and tightens his thighs together around his partner’s cock, circling the tip of Derek’s length with his fingers, “You keep doing shit like that and I’ll be ready for round two in no time,” he says and moves his hips forward, then back again.

“Stiles,” Derek growls out as he reaches down to feel the hips moving and he groans weakly, feeling the muscles flex around his length and, though it’s not sex, it’s close enough. He pulls back to turn the younger man around, pressing their bodies together as he arches his hips, his movements not as sure as he’d like them to be as he smears Stiles’s fluids between his legs.

Stiles reaches up once he’s turned and touches Derek’s face, gaze dropping to the older man’s lips, “You gonna come, big guy?” he asks coarsely, kissing his partner for a moment and tasting the warm heat of his mouth, “Bet you’d like to come all over me, huh? Make me smell like you?”

The alpha kisses Stiles back breathlessly, eyes widening at the way the other man is talking and he feels his cheeks heat as he grabs Stiles’s ass, nodding subtly, rolling them over and pressing the younger man against the mattress as he arches. Stiles has no clue how right he is, and his wolf is both amused and even more aroused at the comment.

“That’s good,” Stiles encourages breathlessly, keeping one hand on Derek’s cheek as his other hand scratches at the werewolf’s scalp, just behind his ear, “‘Cause I wanna smell like you,” he admits, flexing his thighs and squeezing the girth between them, “Want people to know I’m yours.”

“ _Mine_ ,” Derek says as he gasps at the fingers scratching his skin and he leans back into them, closing his eyes as his cock throbs, “Oh, **Stiles** ,” he groans as his mouth drops open.

“Come on, Derek,” Stiles coaxes lowly, lifting his head to kiss the older man, fingers moving in the werewolf’s hair, “Come on me,” he whimpers, the larger man’s length brushing his balls.

Derek pulls back, his legs shifting close as he leans down to press his lips to Stiles’s, his hand dropping down to grip himself firmly, pulling at the flesh desperately as he pants and licks into the younger man’s mouth.

Both of Stiles’s hands move, arms wrapping around Derek’s neck and he pulls the older man into the kiss even more, the pressure enough to make his lips sting, but it’s so _good_ , “Come on me,” he prompts again, voice breaking halfway through.

Derek whimpers weakly into Stiles’s mouth and comes finally, his body shuddering as his seed spills over the younger man’s stomach and hips and he pulls back finally, chest heaving as he slumps down on the bed beside Stiles and reaches over numbly to run his fingers through the fluids, smearing it into his skin.

Stiles watches Derek and feels the corners of his mouth lift into a sated smile, raising his arms lazily above his head before looking at the werewolf, “That was nice,” he says, eyes raking over his partner’s flushed face.

“Yeah,” Derek agrees and smiles back lazily, looking at the other man and leaning down to kiss his shoulder.

“I want you to move back in.”

Stiles’s smile softens some and he stares at the werewolf for a long moment, then nods slowly, “Yeah,” he agrees, “Okay.”

The alpha lifts his brows, surprised when Stiles doesn’t argue it, “Good,” he says as he slides his leg against the younger man’s, his eyes drooping sleepily, even though he shouldn’t, considering they’ve only just gotten home. He forgets how exhausting it is to **actually** get off.

“Derek,” Stiles snorts, watching the older man and the way his blinking becomes slower, “It’s not even eight o’clock yet,” he says, grunting as he gets up and moves to straddle the werewolf, “Don’t pass out on me.”

He puts his hands on Derek’s chest, “We can order food or something and shower together later.”

Derek chuckles and puts his hands on Stiles’s waist, sitting up and staring into his eyes, “That sounds good,” he says as he lays the younger man back down, leaning low to lick at the fluids on his stomach, his palms sliding along Stiles’s skin.

“And by order food, I didn’t mean lap up the come on my stomach,” Stiles says in amusement and squirms a little, the older man’s tongue tickling him.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Presstilton](http://presstilton.tumblr.com/)


	5. A Double Date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Deaton puts his hands on the desk in front of him as he looks between Stiles and Derek, the tentative, but determined look on agent Stilinski’s face and the typical annoyed, frustrated expression on his partner’s, “I hope neither of you are in here to request a reassignment.”

Derek rolls his eyes and sits forward in his seat, “We’re not.”

Stiles gives Derek a pointed look and shakes his head, “Don’t do that,” he mutters, then looks at Deaton, pursing his lips for a moment, “We um-we figured you needed to know t-that we’re… _involved_... now.”

Deaton observes the exchange between the two silently, then looks down at his hands and reaches into the drawer on his left side, “I’m not surprised,” he replies as he smiles slightly, “Given your job history together so far. Why didn’t you come forward about it sooner?”

“What do you mean? There wasn’t a ‘sooner’.”

“Yeah,” Stiles clarifies, “This literally just kinda happened, it’s still fresh.”

“Alright,” Deaton says as he hands the two forms to them, “Fill these out and have them to me by the end of the day.”

Derek glances down at the papers and clenches his jaw when he realizes it’s about five pages worth of ‘filling out’ to do. He sighs in annoyance and stands up, moving from his seat and opening the door as he waits for Stiles.

Stiles takes the paper and shrugs off Derek’s typical moodiness to Deaton, as if to say ‘what are you gonna do?’ before following his partner out of the office as he looks some of the questions over, “Some of this is pretty personal, nosy assholes.”

“I noticed,” Derek mutters and closes the door, already regretting the decision to be official about their relationship.

He narrows his brows when he overhears Whittemore muttering ‘I knew it’ to his partner. He wants to say something to the both of them, but he doesn’t bother, walking back to his desk and taking his seat to look over the first page, grabbing his pen and filling out the easier things.

Stiles follows suit and grabs his pen, chewing on it as he flips the page and reads some on the next few, “ _Do they really have to know if we’ve had sex yet_?” he asks in a harsh whisper, shaking his head incredulously.

Derek glances at Stiles and then turns to the page he’s looking at, then purses his lip at a few of the questions, “When we started expressing feelings for one another?... Does my heat count?”

Stiles snorts and shakes his head, “I don’t think so, dude. Um, by expressing feelings do they mean like, actually telling one another **or** showing one another, because if it’s the latter, I think we’ve been expressing it for a good while now.”

Derek nods in agreement and then writes ‘n/a’ for the answer to that question before turning back to the front page, “I don’t see the point of half of these questions, it’s none of their business.”

“Would you rather we keep it a secret and risk getting caught?” Stiles asks as he mindlessly fills the blanks in, “We could both lose our jobs, and while I get that it might not matter to you, **I** actually **like** working here.”

“It does matter to me.”

“No it doesn’t; you’re quitting anyway, so it’s not exactly a big deal for you.”

Derek stops and looks at Stiles, staring at him as he considers correcting the younger man, and then he decides to give Stiles some incentive instead, “We could **never** close the Poetry Killer case, most serial killer cases are, but some are still open; it could take a while. Maybe I’ll find a reason to stay during that time.”

“Yeah,” Stiles looks back down to his forms, “Good luck with that, big guy,” he says, because the Hale case is about as closed as it’s going to get, Boyd’s case as well - so there’s really no reason for Derek to stick around, as much as he wants him to.

“It’s not like I’m leaving the bureau because I don’t want to work with you, or that I don’t enjoy your partnership,” Derek supplies then and sighs, “You know why it is, and if I stay, it’ll put everything at risk.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says again dismissively, because if he actually gets into this conversation with Derek, then he’s going to end up getting butt-hurt and starting an argument of some kind. So he let’s it go, doesn’t bite at the bit like the werewolf seems to want him to.

Derek looks back down at his forms and continues filling them out, nothing is going to convince Stiles to just accept him leaving, not even reason. He flips the page and starts just putting ‘n/a’ for anything he feels the FBI doesn’t need to know, which is over half the second page, and almost all of the third and fourth.

Stiles settles into the mostly comfortable silence between them, completely filling out the paperwork and pushing it aside for the time being. Derek finished before he did, so he just assumes the older man didn’t answer half of them, because it seems like something he’d do.

Scott slams his hands down onto Stiles’s desk suddenly, excited and smiling from ear to ear as he looks between the both of them, “Both of you, dinner tonight at my place, no arguments,” he says, still beaming and looking between them knowingly, “It’ll be like a-a… double date kinda thing.”

Stiles looks from his best friend to his… boyfriend (?) - Derek is actually his boyfriend now, wow - and lifts a curious brow, trying not to push the older man into something he’s not entirely comfortable with.

Derek nods, already expecting it because he’d overheard the conversation between Lydia and Scott, “Okay,” he agrees as he meets Stiles’s eyes.

Stiles grins at his partner and distantly hears Scott say ‘awesome’, feeling a pat on his shoulder and then his friend is gone - off to tell Lydia no doubt.

“You didn’t have to agree,” he tells Derek, even though he’s glad that he did.

“No, I didn't,” Derek responds shortly and stands, reaching over to take the papers from his desk, “You wanna go out for leads early?”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees and grabs his things, standing as well, “We still have a few more Ions to check up on, too,” he says.

Derek grabs his coat, putting on his holster and moving to Stiles’s side as he takes his partner’s filled out form before moving past him, briefly reaching out to touch the younger man’s waist before waiting at the door and watching him.

Stiles grins at the touch and follows after Derek, and whereas he’d probably normally keep some kind of distance, he doesn’t bother to this time and stands as closely to the older man as he pleases. It’s not a secret anymore, so he doesn’t want it to seem that way.

Derek smiles to himself as they walk to the elevator and he reaches out again, resting his palm on Stiles’s lower back as they wait, “Ions first?”

* * *

Stiles looks up at Derek anxiously in front of Scott’s and Lydia’s door, glancing his partner over appreciatively before reaching up to fix his tie, “Be nice,” he says, “Lydia will probably try to get under your skin, just ignore her.”

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, but he is, “And it’s like, a rule that if Heidi asks you to zoom her around the room like a plane, you do it. But I think you’re safe for now, because she doesn’t know you.”

Derek lifts a brow, able to smell how nervous Stiles is, and he rolls his eyes, reaching down to grab the younger man’s waist as he bends over to kiss his forehead, “I know Martin, I’ve worked with her for years,” he replies, and though he’s never seen the woman’s daughter, he knows more about the girl than he’d like to.

“Relax.”

“I can’t relax, these are my friends and y-you’re my-my…” Stiles huffs out a breath and smiles slowly, “You’re my boyfriend,” he utters affectionately, “And I really want you guys to get along.”

“I already get along with McCall,” Derek points out, insides twisting at the way Stiles says that he’s his boyfriend, and the term doesn’t sound right, but he doesn’t correct him. It’s the closest human’s can get to ‘mate’ without feeling uncomfortable, “That’s half, half is more than enough.”

“Just…” Stiles leans up and pulls on Derek’s shirt, tugging him down into a quick kiss, “Keep the eye-rolling to a minimum tonight, please?” he asks, “And the huffy breathing you do when you think someone’s being stupid.”

Derek starts to protest and then narrows his eyes at Stiles, “Right,” he mumbles and stands back upright, rolling his eyes and huffing so he can get it out of the way for the rest of the night, “You worry too much about things that are out of your control,” he says as he looks at Stiles, the younger man finally reaching out to ring the doorbell, “Martin already doesn’t like me, that’s not gonna change just because we’re seeing one another.”

“You don’t know that,” Stiles responds, smile fading as he turns his head to look at Derek, “You don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“No, I don’t,” Derek agrees, “And neither do you, but you’re still worrying,” he reaches out to run his hand down Stiles’s arm, touching the younger man’s palm with the tips of his fingers, “It goes both ways.”

Stiles opens his mouth to respond, to tell Derek that he can’t stop worrying, but then Scott pulls the door open and looks at them with a shit-eating grin.

“Come on in,” Scott offers as he moves out of the way, “Lydia’s excited you two agreed.”

“He agreed,” Stiles points out and takes his coat off, putting it up on the coat rack in the foyer, “Me, I’m not so thrilled to be hammered with the questions I’m sure will inevitably come my way.”

“It’s nothing the relationship forms haven’t already asked,” Derek mutters as he follows Stiles, taking off his own coat as well.

“True, but they’re more intimidating when they’re coming out of a certain strawberry blonde’s mouth.”

“She’s not **that** bad,” Scott sticks up for Lydia, smiling at them before leading them into the large kitchen, “Honey, look who’s here.”

Lydia grins wide as she all but waddles from the stove, her hand on her stomach as she looks between Stiles and Derek, “About time, I thought they were gonna stand on the front porch for hours.”

Derek lifts a brow as he stands behind Stiles, glancing down at the young woman’s swollen stomach, it doesn’t surprise him that she’d noticed they pulled up, considering how unusually observing she is, but they didn’t really stand in front of the door for **that** long.

“We weren’t out there for that long,” Stiles points out and moves closer, bending down to put his ear to Lydia’s stomach, “How’s my godson doing in there?” he asks, rubbing the other side of her belly.

“Bro, wait 'til I show you the latest sonogram,” Scott says excitedly, “Little dude’s gonna be hung,” he tells his best friend proudly.

“He definitely takes after his father, thankfully. And he kicks harder than Heidi did.”

Derek stands silently behind his partner, watching as the younger man rubs Lydia’s stomach and, though he doesn’t have much to offer, himself, he doesn’t feel particularly out of place just yet.

“Cool,” Stiles says and pulls back, “That’s good, though, right? Means he’s strong and healthy, yeah?” he asks, backing up a little more towards Derek.

“Yeah,” Lydia confirms and turns back to sift through her purse before offering the pictures to Stiles, “He’s more than healthy,” she moves to Scott and leans over to kiss his cheek, “Daddy won’t shut up about it, every time he’s on the phone with someone he’s talking about his son’s dick… which is what he’s saying is the reason why our son is bigger than Heidi was around the same time.”

“He’s a proud daddy,” Stiles replies and looks at the pictures as Scott nods along, “Dude, you weren’t kidding, wow. I feel inferior to a child that hasn’t even been born yet, way to go.” He holds the sonogram pictures up higher, showing them to Derek even though he knows the older man couldn’t care less.

Derek glances at the black and white images, the unusual shape of the baby’s form in Lydia’s stomach and he can remember the last time he saw one of these - when he was about six years old and Cora was on the way. He reaches out for them, looking at them for a moment before offering them back to Lydia.

“So…” Lydia starts as she looks between them, “Take a seat at the counter, dinner will be done soon, and you two can pass the time by telling me how you two got together finally,” she gives Stiles a pointed look as if to say ‘told you so’.

“Or,” Stiles says and takes one of the stools, pulling the other one out for Derek, “I could, you know, not do that at all,” he tells her.

“Only you **are** gonna tell me,” Lydia responds as she watches Derek sit down, “I think we both deserve to know,” she motions to Scott, “Considering we knew it was gonna happen before either of you did.”

Stiles narrows his brows at both Scott and Lydia, “It just happened, okay?” he shrugs and glances at Derek briefly, “You guys seriously don’t need the details. Just know that it **is**. It’s totally a thing that happened.”

“That’s not good enough,” Lydia replies sternly and puts her hands on her waist, “Is it serious, or are you two just… having sex?”

Stiles swallows nervously because he doesn’t really want to divulge any private information and risk pissing Derek off, “I’m not telling you, and really, if all of this,” he gestures vaguely to the food, “Was just a ploy to get us here to interrogate us, you could’ve done better.”

“It’s serious,” Derek cuts in and leans against the counter as he looks at Stiles.

“Good, I know that most relationships between gay men aren’t, normally. I’m just making sure Stiles isn’t making stupid decisions after… everything that happened,” Lydia says dismissively as she walks back to the stove, “When did you change your mind, Stiles?”

Stiles gapes at Derek for a moment and then looks at Lydia, spluttering slightly, “I uh-I dunno,” he shrugs and he doesn’t like being questioned, he doesn’t do well under pressure, “Pretty sure I had like, some kind of epiphany the other night,” he voices, and it’s not even something he’s told Derek yet.

“And what?” Scott prompts, looking at his friend knowingly, “You realized you’ve totally been into Hale since the beginning?”

“Something like that,” Stiles mutters quietly and looks at Derek.

Derek watches the younger man and now **he’s** honestly curious about how long it’s been for Stiles. His partner didn’t say much before, but the response is somewhat vague.

“It was pretty obvious,” Lydia says as she opens the oven and motions to the pork chops, “Honey, can you get those?”

“Yeah, baby,” Scott moves and grabs the oven mitts, putting them on before pulling the meat out for his wife and he sits it on the counter, “You guys have been into each other since the first time we all went to the bar together,” he looks over his shoulder at his friend and the senior agent, “I knew the night you got stabbed, dude.”

“You did not,” Stiles shakes his head and narrows his eyes at Scott.

Derek eyes Scott skeptically, because as far as he can tell, the other man **has** known for that long, or at least he thinks he does, “How?”

“Well,” Scott turns back around to them and takes the mitts off, “First of all, there were three of us at the bar. But given the way you two bantered and argued, constantly pulling each other’s pigtails, there might as well have only been two,” he grins, “Neither one of you hardly looked away from one another. It was kind of stupid, that’s why I left so early, to leave you two alone; give you some privacy.”

“We were arguing,” Stiles reasons with his friend, “You tend to look at someone when you’re arguing with them.”

“There’s a difference between ‘arguing’ and ‘flirting’,” Lydia supplies and giggles as she looks at them both, “Either of you thirsty?”

“Yeah, you got any beer?” Stiles asks stupidly, remembering Lydia’s rule about Scott not being able to have any alcohol if she can’t consume any either, “Shit, nevermind. I’ll take tea,” he says, then nudges Derek with his elbow, “What do you want, big guy?”

Derek smiles slightly at the nickname and shrugs, “Tea is fine,” he responds, trying not to think too much about Scott and Lydia’s observations. He didn’t think they were that obviously into one another, otherwise he would’ve at _least_ managed to pick it up himself.

Lydia turns back to the counter, reaching out for a couple glasses, “So, have you two had sex yet?”

“ **So** none of your business, Lyds,” Stiles points out with wide eyes, swallowing somewhat nervously, “Contrary to what you think, you really don’t need to know everything.”

“Come on, baby, that’s personal,” Scott sticks up for Stiles and looks at his wife, “Let it go.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “It so isn’t,” she responds, “I mean, come on, we’ve known Stiles for **ages** , and we always talk about each other’s sex lives, it’s not personal in the slightest.”

Derek listens to the argument, keeping silent himself and deciding to let Stiles answer, considering he’s the one that seems more withdrawn with answering. The alpha settles for reaching out and putting his hand on Stiles’s lower back for silent support.

“You guys willingly tell me about your sex life, I don’t ask,” Stiles mindlessly scoots closer to Derek on his stool, “You should extend me the same courtesy. If I wanna tell you, I will.”

Lydia sighs and pours their glasses before offering them, “Fine, be that way.”

“I **will** be that way,” Stiles confirms pointedly and grins at Lydia, reaching out to rest his hand on Derek’s leg.

Derek chuckles at the comment and sips his tea, staring at Stiles as Lydia walks around the kitchen, preparing their plates. He’d offer a hand, but she seems content to do it, and he’s not particularly sure if she’d even like him to.

“So, since you’re being stubborn,” Lydia says as she hands the first two plates to Scott, “What **will** you talk about?”

“I moved back in with him,” Stiles offers and watches as Scott takes the plates from Lydia, “So yeah, there’s that,” he shrugs.

“That’s cool,” Scott says, “You seemed kinda bummed about getting your own place anyway.”

Derek lifts his brows curiously, internally pleased about the comment as Lydia looks at them knowingly.

“It saves gas too,” Lydia adds as she giggles, “And I don’t like you living on your own,” she admits as she gives Stiles a concerned look, “You drink too much when you’re alone and there’s nothing more depressing than drinking alone. You might as well play Seven Mary Three as well.”

“I don’t drink that much,” Stiles defends himself even though he knows Lydia is right. Part of him wants to say it’s hereditary, remembering the way his father almost drank himself to death after his mother passed away, but he knows it’s not - it’s a choice.

“Oh yes you do,” Lydia replies and glares at him, then looks at Derek, “Tell me he doesn’t drink as much around you.”

Derek shakes his head, “He doesn’t.”

“Good,” Lydia responds, satisfied as she takes the next couple plates, “Come on now, before it gets cold.”

Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and pulls him from his stool, leading him into the dining room, taking a seat, and pushing out the one next to him for his partner before glancing between Lydia and Scott, “Where’s my favorite little girl?” he asks.

“She’s in the living room, coloring,” Lydia says as she sits, “Heidi, honey, put your crayons down and come in here for dinner!”

Derek sits beside Stiles, flipping his tie over his shoulder and glancing at his partner as he shifts slightly closer to the younger man. It was bad enough having to go to work and act somewhat civil, but being outside of it and still having the withdraw is getting to him.

Heidi comes barreling into the room, brown pigtails flopping and she stops abruptly when she looks at Derek, trying to take all of him in and gauge whether or not he’s a good guy. Upon internally making her decision, she moves to the table and promptly takes the seat next to him, staring up at him, “Hi.”

Derek looks down at the little girl, then offers his hand, “Hi.”

Stiles subtly observes the exchange between the two, the corner of his mouth twitching upward slightly.

Heidi looks at Derek’s huge hand and narrows her little brows in determination before taking his finger, shaking his hand the best she can, “I’m Heidi,” she tells him.

“I’m Derek,” the alpha responds as he gently shakes, pulling his hand back and trying to appear as harmless as possible, “How old are you?”

“Four years, two months, one week and five days old,” Heidi says smartly, smiling proudly up at Derek.

“That’s pretty old,” Derek observes her curiously.

Lydia watches the exchange in amusement and then turns to Stiles, her eyes widening slightly.

Stiles’s eyes are just as wide as Lydia’s and he smiles, “Who knew, am I right?”

Heidi’s mouth pops open and she crosses her little arms, completely affronted, “Is not,” she argues, “ **You’re** old,” she corrects him and bursts into a sudden fit of giggles.

Derek raises his brows, “I’m not old,” he disagrees once she’s collected herself enough to listen, “I’m really old - there’s a difference, you see.”

Heidi’s expression turns inquisitive and she stares up at Derek curiously, “How old are you?” she asks.

“Thirty-seven,” Derek responds, aware that everyone around them is listening in and staring at them, “ **Really** old.”

“Yeah,” Heidi says in awe, nodding her head, “Why are you here?” she asks suddenly, because she’s never met him before.

Stiles opens his mouth to answer Heidi, but closes it when he realizes he wants to hear what Derek says instead - he’s far too amused for his own good.

Derek frowns at the question, unsure if he should answer honestly, but then he figures it’s Lydia’s daughter, and she’s obviously smart, so he responds the best he can, “I’m your godfather’s boyfriend.”

Heidi perks up at that and gets up on her knees to better look Derek in the eyes, her own wide and curious, “Do you kiss and stuff?” she asks.

“Yes,” Derek confirms as he stares back at her.

Lydia giggles at her daughter and shakes her head, not wanting to interrupt them so she just eats silently and continues to watch the exchange.

Stiles snorts and almost chokes on a piece of broccoli, amused as Heidi questions Derek.

Heidi scrunches her nose up and squeals, “Ew!” she cries out dramatically, “You were supposed to lie to me,” she says, “You’re not supposed to tell kids those kinds of things.”

“You seem too smart to lie to,” Derek responds as he chuckles, “Why would I bother lying to a genius?”

Heidi’s chest puffs out a little at that and she smiles wide, “I like you,” she declares before turning to eat her food finally.

Derek turns to his food as well, cutting into his pork chop and glancing at Stiles as he puts the first piece in his mouth.

“You know,” Lydia starts, “It’s not often she likes someone that quickly.” She’s still kind of surprised about what she just experienced, somewhat thrown off with the way the large man handled her daughter, no one would believe her if she tried to tell them.

“Yeah,” Stiles mutters, still staring at Derek in awe, “She never really liked Heather,” he tells him, feeling somewhat proud of that fact.

Derek isn’t surprised in the slightest, he doubts anyone in general could warm to that woman, “Mm.”

Lydia smiles at the gruff response, “I take it you didn’t like her either?” she looks at Stiles when Derek doesn’t respond, “Did they not get along?”

Stiles snorts and shakes his head, “They argued from the moment they met, it was insane, you should’ve seen it,” he tells her, smiling as he eats his food, “Kinda makes sense now, though. I guess.”

“Because he was in love with you?” Lydia asks, raising her sharp brows and glancing at Derek, “I’ve been there before.”

“That might’ve been part of it,” Stiles shrugs, because he wasn’t really in Derek’s head at the time, so he doesn’t know, “But really, Heather doesn’t make it easy for anyone to like her and big guy over here isn’t really much of a people person in general, so…”

“Seems to be doing okay to me,” Scott notes, looking at Derek.

“Well, he seems to be good with kids,” Lydia says as she sips her water, “I always wondered about Heather myself - I mean, she wanted kids, but I’ve seen her around Heidi; she’s not very good with them.”

She turns to Scott then, “I know we wanted Jess to watch the kids when we got time off, but I’m reconsidering.”

Scott nods along, because he gets what Lydia’s hinting at and he agrees, “Yeah,” he says, looking at Stiles and Derek, “You guys wanna babysit for us?”

“It’s nothing sudden,” Lydia adds as she looks between them, “Just, after he’s born, we wanted to have some time to ourselves, you know? And it’s bad enough that Jess watches Heidi until we get home, she could probably take some time off too.”

Stiles leans in closer to Derek and watches him to gauge his reaction, touching the werewolf’s elbow with his own, “What do you say?” he asks lowly, trying not to push his partner into it, “You wanna babysit with me?”

Derek looks between Stiles and then Lydia and Scott, “For how long?”

“The weekend,” Lydia says, “From Friday night until Sunday night. I don’t know if you’re good with **babies** -”

“Okay, sure.”

Stiles doesn’t understand why he’s so excited he can barely contain himself, leaning in suddenly to catch the older man’s lips for a quick kiss. The prospect of babysitting with Heather never appealed to him in the slightest, but seeing Derek with Heidi kind of makes his chest swell fondly.

“Would you like that, Heidi?” Lydia asks, watching her daughter eat her food, “You’d like your godfather and Derek to watch you guys for the weekend mommy and daddy take off?”

“Yep,” Heidi nods and grabs her chocolate milk, taking a drink and putting it back on the table, “Derek can fly me higher than Stiles,” she says, “He’s big.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Presstilton](http://presstilton.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies fer any horrible writing or typos, this chapter was a little rushed. Either I put it out today or make you guys wait, and I didn't wanna do that. Just lemme know if anything sounds weird.
> 
> ~MageStiles


	6. The Third Vic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek observes the body of the girl first, tempted not to let Stiles into the room this time, but considering his partner will have to look at the photos regardless, and it’s _kind of_ his job, it's probably best for Stiles that he gets used to seeing these kinds of things.

He stands back and swallows, moving to the door and giving Stiles a pointed look, “It’s bad.”

Stiles swallows tightly at the expression on Derek's face and moves past the larger man, frowning and turning away after he gets a glimpse, “You were right, the last victim hurting herself during their struggle probably excited him. I’m guessing he decided to take things into his own hands this time.”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees and moves to shut off the cd player again, glancing at everything on the table before walking to Stiles again, “It reeks.”

“Of what?”

“Seed. Arousal, excitement, fear, trauma; she was terrified.”

“I would’ve been, too,” Stiles mutters and shakes his head, “We gotta find this guy, Derek, he’s getting worse. We still have more Ions to check out, we need to do that before we go home today. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Derek stills when he sees something behind his partner and he reaches out for Stiles’s arm, “Turn around.”

Stiles narrows his brows at the expression on his partner’s face and turns around slowly, eyes scanning a little message board on the wall and he swallows sickly when he sees their work cards pinned to it, “Derek,” he mumbles uneasily.

Derek walks to his partner and then to the cork-board, “There’s blood on them,” he points out and takes the cards down.

“Is it her’s or his?” Stiles asks curiously and tamps down the way his stomach rolls nervously, “And why-I don’t understand… is he trying to let us know that **he** knows who we are?”

“It’s hers,” Derek says and turns the cards around to show Stiles the words written on the back. On his, there’s ‘ _I_ ’; and on Stiles’s, there’s ‘ _know_ ’.

“Does he just want us to know…? Or is he threatening us?” Stiles asks, staring at the cards once more before meeting his partner’s eyes.

“I don’t know; how would I know that?”

“It was just a question, Hale, I dunno,” Stiles flails a little bit, feeling uncomfortable, “I’m trying not to freak out, okay?”

“I know,” Derek says as he listens to Stiles’s heart beats rising and he moves to his partner, reaching out with his free hand and taking Stiles’s as he meets his gaze, “It’s okay, I’m here.”

Stiles searches Derek’s face and he’s thankful that they’re partners, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle this part of his job without the werewolf around.

“We should check this scene more thoroughly for anything else,” Derek says as he glances around, moving to grab one of the evidence bags and dropping the cards into it.

“Can you get this room?” Stiles asks and gestures to the door with his thumb, “I’ll go look around everywhere else that isn’t in here.”

Derek leans down, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his partner’s lips to try and calm him down a little more before he steps back to stare at the board again, "Alright."

Stiles smiles at Derek tenderly and feels the tension in his shoulders ease some before moving out of the room, checking all of the others rigorously in an attempt to find anything else that might have been left for them.

Derek checks the room over but, other than the cards, he finds nothing else. He’s not sure if it’s comforting or not, but he returns to the hall and walks into one of the rooms Stiles is checking over, “Nothing?”

“Nope,” Stiles tells Derek and puts the couch cushion back down, straightening his back and shaking his head as he turns to his partner, “Maybe it was just the cards.”

“The case isn’t really a secret,” Derek says and puts his hands in his pockets, “Anyone could find out that you and I are handling it, but the fact that he feels the need to warn us makes me think he feels threatened.”

“Maybe we’re getting too close for comfort,” Stiles muses and rubs a hand over his face, “And we can’t really pull back any… you don’t think he’d act out, do you? I mean, aside from leaving those cards?”

“I hope not,” Derek admits and motions to the door, “Lets go take a break, we’ll let someone else handle the neighbors, you could use some air.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles insists stubbornly, but moves to the door anyway and steps out of the house, putting his hands on the railing of the front porch for a moment and shaking his head, “I’m never gonna be able to handle this,” he says, “It’s never not gonna bother me.”

“You’d be surprised what a person can get used to, being around it as often as I have.”

“No, I know. I know you’re desensitized or whatever, I just don’t think that’s a possibility for me. I really don’t… I don’t think I’d ever **want** to be desensitized to something like that in there.”

Derek can understand that well enough, even though he knows that chances are it’ll happen, given time, “Come on, let’s go for lunch.”

“You **would** be hungry right now,” Stiles snorts and smiles slowly at the older man before walking down the steps, heading towards the Camaro.

Derek follows after Stiles, climbing into the driver’s side seat and glancing at his partner once they’ve pulled off the side of the road, “Are you gonna be okay for now?”

“Yeah; yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Derek reaches out to take Stiles’s hand, “We’ll catch him, we’re close.”

“I know,” Stiles says and squeezes Derek’s hand in his own, even though he’s not particularly sure he believes it.

* * *

A sharp incessant ringing pulls Stiles from his sleep and he shoots up in bed when he realizes it’s the phone, blinking blearily at the alarm clock that reads 3:22 AM. He groans and moves, all but laying across Derek’s chest as he grabs the phone, answering it and putting it to his ear, “Yeah?”

“Baby,” Scott says in a rushed breath.

“I’m flattered, Scotty, but I’m with Derek now,” Stiles responds sleepily, trying not to shove his elbow in his partner’s chest.

“No, dude, **the baby** ,” Scott amends and Stiles is pretty sure he can hear his best friend’s eye roll over the line, “He’s coming, are you gonna meet us at the hospital?”

“Oh,” Stiles’s eyes widen and he nods, belatedly realizing Scott can’t see it, “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, bro, we’ll be there,” he assures, “See you soon.”

He ends the call and puts the phone back down, dropping his head to Derek’s chest for just a moment, “We gotta go,” he kisses all over the werewolf’s sleep heated skin and starts to roll over Derek to get up, “Lyd’s gonna have the baby.”

Derek grunts and wraps his arms around Stiles, pulling him in and burying his face against the younger man’s neck, “Hmm?”

“The baby,” Stiles says and droops against the older man’s body all too willingly, because it feels so nice being close to Derek, especially when he’s so sleepy, “Her water broke, we gotta go.”

Derek runs his hands down Stiles’s body as he huffs and turns his head to press his lips to his partner’s jaw, “What baby?”

“Lydia’s baby,” Stiles tries to explain some more, knowing Derek’s just as out of it as he feels, “You know, the one in her stomach. It’s coming,” he says and shivers, reaching up to card his fingers through Derek’s hair, “Come on, big guy. We need to go.”

Derek sighs and curls against Stiles even more as he shuts his eyes, “It’s just a dream, go back to sleep.”

“It’s not a dream,” Stiles tells the werewolf and smiles at him, kissing his lips and scratching against his scalp, “And if we don’t go, they’re never gonna forgive me. It’s my godson, Der, come on.”

Derek lets go of Stiles as he sits up and climbs out of bed warily, moving to the dresser to get a change of clothes.

Stiles walks around the room sluggishly, grabbing one of Derek’s big work shirts off of the back of the chair in their room, pulling it on and rolling the sleeves up before grabbing his jeans.

He goes to put his foot in and hops some when he loses balance, shrieking as he falls and when he hits the floor, he grunts, pants halfway up his thighs, “Maybe we should just stay home,” he sighs.

Derek moves to Stiles and plucks him off the floor, setting him on the bed, “Don’t rush yourself,” he mutters, “Otherwise you'll get hurt.”

“I’m equal parts sleepy and excited,” Stiles says and pulls Derek down by the nape of his neck, “Accidents are bound to happen.”

“Mm,” Derek hums and leans down, pushing Stiles against the bed and kissing him as he reaches down to pull the younger man’s pants up his thighs, grabbing Stiles’s waist and lifting him back onto his feet as he breaks the kiss and returns to getting himself dressed.

“You know,” Stiles starts and moves to put his shoes on, probably a little too affected by the older man being able to man handle him like that, “I’d like to do that again, really, really soon. Except, maybe next time, you can pull my pants down instead of pulling them up, yeah?”

Derek chuckles and steps carefully into his own jeans, taking a shirt and moving to get his shoes, “Let’s get through this first, then we’ll talk about sex, I don’t wanna get sidetracked.”

“Pft,” Stiles rolls his eyes at the taller man and moves to grab his jacket, “I dunno, I’m starting to think it’s not even possible for you to get sidetracked. We’re two grown men with unlimited amounts of mostly unresolved sexual tension and you still haven’t tried anything with me.”

Derek lifts a brow as he puts on his socks, “I thought I explained this before. Sex isn’t something I do often.”

“Right,” Stiles runs a hand over his face, removing the crust from his eyes, “Okay, big guy. Guess I can wait longer,” he says, leaving the bedroom to head out towards the front door.

Derek finishes putting on his shoes, grabbing his keys and moving after Stiles, reaching out for him before he can reach the door, “That’s not to say I don’t want to do it with you,” he points out as he kisses Stiles’s temple, “I just figured we should get you moved in and settle down a little before we do anything… **really** serious.”

“You wanna settle down with me,” Stiles responds dopily and smiles so wide his face hurts, clutching at the werewolf’s cheeks to pull him into a short, heated kiss, “You’re a big softy, you know that?”

Derek leans in again to kiss Stiles back and mutters: “Just with you.”

He opens the door and locks it behind them, moving to the car and climbing in. It didn’t really feel _dark_ until they got outside though, and now he’s realizing that he’s tired again.

Stiles smiles to himself, even as he’s buckling himself in, glancing over at his partner as his heart stutters, making him feel like a schoolgirl with a crush or something, “And kids, apparently,” he adds a few minutes later.

“Children are an exception to it,” Derek says as he drives, glancing over at Stiles, “You’re… different.”

“How am I different?” Stiles asks and figures that Derek’s sleepy enough, maybe he can get away with a few questions before they get to the hospital.

Derek shrugs, “Because I want to mate you.”

“And what does that mean to you?” Stiles asks curiously, turning in the seat some and drawing his legs up as he watches Derek’s face, “Tell me what mating means to you.”

Derek lets out a huff of breath, “About the same thing it means to every other werewolf, mating is… serious. Knotting, marking, keeping you, settling down together.”

“Is it a ‘together forever’ kind of thing?” Stiles asks curiously and feels something akin to actual fucking butterflies in his stomach at the thought.

“It’s permanent.”

“A-And you want that… with me?”

“I’ve been wanting it for a **while** , with you.”

Having Derek confirm it makes Stiles so giddy he doesn’t even really know what to do with himself. He should be flailing all over the place, but he remains still, watching the older man and smiling.

After a moment, he unbuckles his seat belt and leans over to kiss Derek, trying to be quick about it so his partner doesn’t wreck, “I love you,” he says, kissing just next to the werewolf’s ear before sitting back down.

Derek smirks at the soft touch of his partner’s lips and almost closes his eyes in response but then thinks better of it, having a difficult enough time staying awake, “I tried not to want it, especially after I told you how I felt.”

“I’m sorry I handled it so poorly,” Stiles admits and reaches over to rest his hand on the werewolf’s thigh, “I seriously was in shock.”

“I know,” Derek says, “It’s fine,” he turns into the hospital parking lot, taking a space out of the way and turning off the car before climbing out numbly.

Stiles takes just a moment to himself and pulls up Derek’s shirt that he put on, bundling it in his hands and he brings it to his face, breathing in the older man’s smell before climbing out as well, straightening the fabric back out, “They’re probably already inside,” he says, moving to take Derek’s hand, “Come on.”

Derek moves to the younger man, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close as they walk together. He’s still barely awake, but he doubts he’d ever be so tired that he missed Stiles scenting his shirt, and his wolf is more than pleased, wanting to ditch the hospital altogether and knot Stiles in the car or something, but he pushes it back and tries to ignore it the best he can.

Stiles all but clings to Derek’s side as they walk into the hospital together and he grins when he sees Scott standing at the nurses station, “Scotty!” he calls out to get his friend’s attention, walking towards him and he pulls away from Derek slightly, “Where’s Lyds?” he asks, “The baby coming yet?”

“They’re checking her,” Scott says excitedly and puts his hands on Stiles’s shoulders, shaking him a little, “I’m gonna have a little boy, dude!”

“Yeah,” Stiles pulls his friend into a quick hug before letting him go, “I’m excited for you, buddy,” he says, smiling down at Heidi when she steps out from behind Scott, “You excited to be a big sister?” He asks her.

Heidi nods and rubs sleepily at her eyes, mumbling out a soft ‘yeah’ before moving to an equally sleepy Derek, her doll under one arm as she raises her free one expectantly.

Derek bends down and picks her up, holding her easily as he listens to Lydia in a room nearby, turning to look at Scott’s daughter and smiling, “Rude awakening?” he asks, “Your brother’s already disturbing your sleep and he isn’t even born yet.”

“I know,” Heidi yawns and wraps her arms around Derek’s neck, holding onto her doll with one hand as she nuzzles against the large man, already falling back to sleep.

Stiles grins as he watches and looks to Scott, “Well, if she’s not close or anything and if it’s gonna be a while, we could take Heidi home with us until he gets here,” he offers, then looks at his partner again, “That’d be okay with you, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek agrees as he runs his hand over the little girl’s back, listening to her heart beats slowing, tense muscles loosening as she falls back to sleep, “It’s fine.”

“Cool,” Scott says, a little surprised that Derek’s okay with it, “Yeah, the doctor should tell me here in a minute what’s going on. So if you guys wanna sit in the waiting area until then..?”

“No problem, dude, just let us know,” Stiles pats Scott’s shoulder and turns to Derek, touching his arm as they move towards the seats, “She really likes you.”

Derek walks to the left seat and sits down carefully with the little girl, dropping his head back against the wall, “Most kids normally do.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with bringing her home with us?” Stiles asks again, watching Derek and how natural he is with Heidi.

“We’ll have to take off work,” Derek muses aloud, but shrugs, “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Stiles says softly and points to her, “Do you want me to take her?” he asks, unsure if his goddaughter’s clinginess is an issue or not.

“It’s fine, Stiles,” Derek responds and takes the younger man’s hand, pulling him closer before wrapping his arm around Stiles, “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Stiles repeats and rests his head on the werewolf’s free shoulder, waiting as patiently as possible to hear something from Scott so he’ll know whether or not they need to stick around.

Derek shifts slightly to get the doll to stop digging into his arm and he leans down to press a kiss to Stiles’s head, “We’re taking her home.”

Stiles lifts his head and stares at Derek in confusion for a moment and then it dawns on him, “ **Oh** ,” he says, “Sometimes I think I actually forget you can do that,” he admits just as Scott’s walking up to them.

“Looks like she’s only four centimeters dilated,” Scott tells them, clasping his hands together, “Doctor said it might be a while, so if you guys wanna go back home and get some more sleep, that’d be cool. Pretty sure Heidi wouldn’t complain.”

Derek stands up and puts his hand on McCall’s shoulder in reassurance, “Call if you need anything,” he responds as he meets Scott's gaze, “We’ll be back later today.”

Scott nods numbly, completely bewildered as he looks up at the older man, “Thanks, Hale. I appreciate it,” he says, furrowing his brows.

Stiles moves to Scott and hugs him again, just as thrown with how okay Derek is about all of this himself, “He’s a keeper, huh?” he whispers just next to Scott’s ear, knowing the older man will hear him regardless.

“Shut up, Stilinski,” Derek says as he watches them, reaching out to grab Heidi’s doll when her arm drops from his shoulder and it starts to fall.

“It’s code for ‘I love you’,” Stiles tells Scott and moves closer to Derek, smiling at his buddy as he waves and tugs Derek back towards the doors, “It is code for ‘I love you’, right?” he asks once it’s just him, Derek and a sleeping Heidi.

“Sure.”

“Whatever, it’s **so** code for ‘I love you’, so be prepared for me to get all sappy and shit every time you say it from now on.”

“Do you wanna take her, or do you wanna drive?”

“I can drive,” Stiles says, reaching into Derek’s pocket for the car keys, “I don’t wanna wake her up, she looks all peaceful and stuff. I know that feeling, you’re pretty comfortable to sleep on.”

“Right…” Derek mutters and carefully opens the passenger’s side door, sliding in easily and adjusting the seat for his legs. He doesn’t bother with the seat belt for multiple reasons; the top being they aren’t nearly as effective as he is.

Stiles grins to himself and climbs in the driver’s side, buckling himself in and starting the car. It feels odd being back behind the wheel again after so long, given the first and last time he’d driven the vehicle was when Derek was high on Blue Moon.

He drives carefully, though, glancing over at Derek and Heidi at each stop light. If his partner weren’t actually a werewolf and if the drive wasn’t so short, he probably would’ve opted to lay her down in the back seat, just so he could buckle her in, but for now, he knows she’ll be safe.

Derek glances at Stiles every once in a while, holding Heidi firmly and trying to think of if he should let her sleep in the guest room. The bed isn’t **that** high off the ground, “Does she sleep in a bed at Scott’s house?”

“She has a little toddler bed, yeah,” Stiles says, glancing quickly over at Derek, “I’m pretty sure she ends up in bed with Scott and Lydia most of the time, though. We can try putting her in the guest room, she’s not really a big mover when she’s out.”

“I noticed,” Derek responds and chuckles softly, “We might want to wake her up when we get home, just so she knows her surroundings.”

“That’s fine,” Stiles responds, nodding as he pulls onto their road, “She’ll probably just pass right back out afterwards,” he tells the older man, slowing the vehicle just before their driveway and he turns in, cutting the ignition before grinning at his partner, “Come on, let’s get her in.”

Derek opens his door and climbs out, not being as careful as he would if he knew they weren’t about to wake her up. He drops her carefully from his shoulder, holding her in his arms as he walks to the front door, waiting on Stiles to unlock all the locks.

Stiles lets out a frustrated huff of breath after the first lock, then looks at Derek and shakes his head, “Are all of these even really necessary?” he asks, moving down each one until he pushes the door open for the older man.

“It’s stopped me from ripping the door open twice now,” Derek admits as he walks in and sits on the couch as he pats Heidi gently to wake her up.

“Mm,” Heidi mumbles sleepily and blinks slowly at Derek, looking around curiously, “M’tired,” she whines, smacking her lips slightly.

“We just wanted to let you know where you are, Heidi-bug,” Stiles tells her when he moves closer, rubbing her back and kissing the back of her head, “We’re gonna keep you until your mommy has your brother, okay?”

“Okay,” Heidi rubs her eyes and slumps back against Derek, “Wanna sleep,” she says, trying to get comfortable.

Derek stands back up, smiling to himself as he takes her into the guest room, pulling the comforter out from under the pillows and setting her in the center of the mattress. He covers her, leaving the bedroom door open and walking into his and Stiles’s to take off his shoes finally.

Stiles meanders back into their bedroom and stops at the doorway, regarding the older man curiously and wondering if he’s always been so good with kids.

“Have you always been so good with kids?” he asks subtly, unbuttoning his jeans and stepping out of them, kicking his shoes off in the process.

“I guess,” Derek says and shrugs as he pulls off his socks and removes his shirt, “I’ve dealt with a few before, on cases. And I had Cora to look after when I was younger.”

“You’re a natural,” Stiles points out and crawls back into their bed, leaving both his boxers and Derek’s large shirt on as he gets settled under the covers, “It’s kinda cute.”

“Kids normally like me,” Derek repeats from before, “I guess it’s because I seem like a cartoon character to them,” he takes off his pants, changing back into his pajama bottoms before moving to the bed and climbing in, scooping Stiles up into his arms and holding him close, “Tall, like a giant, constantly moody.”

“Sounds like a sexy cartoon,” Stiles says and grins, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and pulling him closer as he kisses the older man’s bearded jaw.

Derek chuckles at the comment and runs his hands up under the boy’s shirt, touching his skin as he presses quick, breathy kisses to Stiles’s face, “Only to you.”

“Whatever,” Stiles scoffs playfully and tries to catch Derek’s lips with his own, “You are, you’re so damn sexy I dunno how I even managed to make you fall in love with me. I’m lucky,” he guesses, shrugging as he tries to press closer to the werewolf.

“Or unfortunate, depending on who you ask,” Derek says as he rolls slightly on top of the younger man, “Either way, I’m luckier than you.”

“Nuh uh,” Stiles shakes his head, hiking his leg up onto Derek’s hip as his eyes rake over the older man’s face, “I’d like to think I’m pretty lucky. Given the fact that I’ve survived not only a stab wound, but a bullet wound as well, and now I have this big, gruff, yet surprisingly tender werewolf in love with me.”

Derek doesn’t argue it, but he could, he doesn’t want to come off wrong, or upset Stiles, so he leans in close and kisses his partner, fingers running down Stiles’s leg, “Gruff, yet surprisingly tender,” he mutters and shakes his head, “You’re probably the only person on the planet that thinks of me that way.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says and moves his palms down the sides of Derek’s neck, down along his shoulders and arms, “And I’d like to think I’m the only one who knows you like this, too,” he says, thinking about how satisfying it is that he was so stubborn and persistent with the older man.

“You don’t need to think it when that’s how it is,” Derek responds as he closes his eyes and presses a few more kisses to his partner’s face, “It’s just you.”

“Just me,” Stiles repeats happily and sighs his contentment, trying to keep his partner close, “We should sleep, we dunno when Lydia’s gonna have the baby.”

Derek hums in agreement as he turns them onto their sides, his arms wrapped completely around Stiles as he buries his face into the younger man’s neck and breathes him in, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums and burrows closer to Derek, if that’s even possible, “Love you, big guy,” he murmurs sleepily, already at ease by being held so close.

“I love you, too,” Derek says softly, voice somewhat muffled as he turns to kiss Stiles’s neck, sliding his leg down the other man’s as he falls slowly back to sleep.

* * *

Heidi stands at the end of the big bed, barely able to see the forms atop it and clutches her baby doll closer as she reaches up to tug on the sheets, “I had a bad dream,” she says softly, unsure if either one of them can hear her.

Stiles hears Heidi and sits up a little, yawning as he squints and looks at her little figure in the dark before thwapping Derek in the side to wake him, “Baby, can you lift her up here?”

“Mm?” Derek mutters and turns, leaning over the side to pick up the little girl before setting her between them. He turns into his pillow before he realizes it isn’t Stiles and he grumbles, reaching out blindly to pull Stiles closer as well, “What’s wrong?”

Stiles cuddles close to Heidi and as close to Derek as he can get without squishing her, hand brushing her soft brown hair back off of her forehead, “Bad dream?” he asks and kisses her cheek.

Heidi nods and tries to make sure she’s physically touching both Derek and Stiles, their presences soothing her nerves, “Yeah,” she says softly, “Is my mommy gonna be okay?” she asks.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Stiles tries to reassure her, closing his eyes again already, “Isn’t that right, Derek?”

“Mhm,” Derek hums in agreement, clearing his throat as he looks down at the little girl, “She’s strong, like you. She’ll be fine.”

Heidi nuzzles closer to Derek then and sighs, seemingly content with the answer, so she closes her eyes.

Stiles follows the movement and scoots closer as well, reaching out to touch Derek’s cheek before drawing it back to try and get some more sleep.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Presstilton](http://presstilton.tumblr.com/)


	7. Knot Really Distracted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Stiles holds the wriggling bundle of baby in his arms and glances up at Lydia, Heidi next to her and Scott standing just by the hospital bed, “He’s beautiful you guys,” he says sincerely, smiling down at the baby as he brushes his fingers over the silken strawberry blonde curls, chuckling as he looks at Lydia, “He got your hair.”

“He has Scott’s jaw, too, you see that?”

Stiles snorts in amusement and brushes the back of his forefinger along the baby’s crooked jaw, “Yeah, poor kid,” he jokes, looking up at Scott and smiling.

“My jaw is unique,” Scott defends himself weakly, unable to not smile about it.

Derek walks back into the room, his coat in hand, and almost stops in his steps when he sees Stiles. He swallows tightly as his eyes dart from the baby to his partner and Derek joins him tentatively, offering Scott his coffee and staring back at Stiles in awe.

Stiles coddles the baby closer to his chest, glancing up at Derek and gesturing to the seat next to him, “Come here, big guy,” he says, patting the baby’s back softly.

Lydia glances at Scott knowingly as Derek moves to sit beside Stiles and she wraps her arms around Heidi, kissing her head.

The alpha sets his own coffee down on the floor by his feet, Stiles’s just beside it as he reaches up to touch the baby’s soft hair.

“Cute, huh?” Stiles asks and scoots closer to Derek, holding the baby so his partner can see him better, and the infant grabs a hold of his finger, squirming a little and cooing at them.

“Mhm,” Derek agrees, but he’s not really staring so much at the baby, though it **is** small and soft, he still can’t stop looking at his partner and feeling a deep longing. He pushes it back, already knowing that Stiles doesn’t want children of his own. It’s a sensitive issue for the both of them, but at least they don’t need to have an awkward conversation about it.

Stiles wiggles his finger gently and smiles when the baby keeps his hold, “What did you guys name him?” he asks, looking up to Lydia for an answer.

“Oliver,” Lydia answers and looks at Scott, “Daddy’s been wanting to use that name since he was sixteen.”

Derek picks back up his coffee, sipping it and listening mindlessly to the sound of the baby’s heartbeats and breathing, able to smell the unusual mix of Scott and Lydia’s scent and though it’s similar to Heidi’s, it’s also masculine.

“I’m gonna call you Ollie, little man,” Stiles crows at the infant, side-glancing Derek and grinning wider, “Babies,” he explains, “Almost enough to make me want kids,” he says vaguely.

Derek narrows his eyes at the comment, catching the lie but not saying anything about it. He’s not sure why Stiles would bother to say it at all, and the look he gives Derek makes him feel unusual, like maybe he’s looking into it too much because he **does** want kids, and Stiles doesn’t.

He nods and watches the two, “Mm.”

* * *

Stiles understands that it’s time for the full moon. He does, really, but he’s slowly starting to realize that work without Derek is literally shit. It gets so boring, not having his partner there to talk to, to go out and check leads with. Which is why he finds himself so excited to get home after he clocks out, damn near breaking every traffic law possible in order to get home quickly.

Once there, he jiggles the keys in the front door impatiently and after he unlocks the last one, he pushes it open hurriedly, “Honey, I’m home,” He calls out.

Derek moves from where he’s been curled up against the bed, climbing over it and moving to the bedroom door. He has a little difficulty maneuvering his way into the hall, shaking out his fur as he gets his shoulders out and he turns, seeing Stiles and rushing quickly to his partner.

He whines and practically aches as he wraps his arms around the younger man and pulls him in, “ _ **Stiles**_.”

“Oh!” Stiles almost shouts and his back goes rigid when Derek pulls him close, eyes wide and arms numb at his sides as his heart races nervously, “Y-You could’ve told me t-that this-I mean, I didn’t know… have you been like this all day?”

“ _ **Like**_ … _ **what**_?” Derek asks as he scents the smaller man’s neck and groans, his arms lifting Stiles from the floor as he moves back to the bedroom.

“Derek!” Stiles all but yelps and clutches at the fur instinctively, “T-The um-you know… did you wolf out after I left for work?”

“ ** _A couple hours ago_** ,” Derek says as he moves to the bed and lays back down, halfway on it as he turns to lick his partner’s neck, his eyes closing as he **finally** feels himself relaxing for once today, at ease now that Stiles is there safe with him.

“Oh God,” Stiles squeaks, flesh breaking out in goosebumps, “That is-” he scratches at the fur tentatively, “Oddly arousing,” he says in confusion, breath hitching in his throat, “I missed you today.”

“ _ **Missed you too**_ ,” Derek whines and leans into the scratching, his whole body thrumming eagerly as he continues to lave Stiles’s skin, his tongue occasionally running over his teeth.

“You okay?” Stiles asks curiously, hands moving more surely the longer he scratches the werewolf’s fur, “You in any pain or anything? How do you feel?”

Derek groans and his mouth drops open, tongue lolling out as he concentrates on the boy’s fingers, “ _ **Lots of pain**_ ,” he confirms as his right claw runs over Stiles’s shirt, careful to not ruin it, even though he wants to.

“Anything I can do to make you feel better?” Stiles asks, because even though he’s not one hundred percent comfortable around Derek in his alpha form, he still loves the guy and doesn’t want him to hurt.

“ _ **This is good**_ ,” Derek responds as he curls his entire body around Stiles, “ _ **It’s better now that you’re here**_.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and lays against the werewolf, slightly wary about it, but he’s positive the older man won’t hurt him. He stays close and moves his fingers in the fur, along Derek’s side and up to the crown of his head, then back down behind his ears.

Derek gasps and his left leg starts twitching, his ears pushing back against his head as he starts licking Stiles again, “ _ **Mine**_ ,” he says, his wolf grinning lazily as Stiles touches him, _my boy_.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees and smiles slowly at the way Derek’s acting, “I’m yours, big guy. All yours,” he murmurs softly and tentatively kisses the top of the werewolf’s snout.

Derek opens his eyes again, staring at Stiles as they glow bright red, his tongue curling over his nose and licking along where the younger man’s lips were. His claw moves, gently pinching Stiles's shirt to tug it up before sliding underneath to touch his skin, “ _ **All mine**_ , _ **yes**_.”

Stiles watches the werewolf with rapt attention and the longer he does, the more he realizes that Derek is nothing even remotely like Peter in this form and that he can be comfortable with him.

He reaches up and loosens his tie at first, then pulls it off and tosses it off the side of the bed, fingers working to unbutton his shirt to appease the larger man. Once undone, he throws the fabric on the floor with his tie and rubs just beneath his partner’s muzzle, nails scratching lightly.

Derek reaches down to tug off the boy’s shoes as well before nuzzling Stiles, a low, soft growl resonating in the back of his throat as he shifts a little more onto the bed, even though he knows that if he puts too much weight onto it he might break it, “ _ **Can’t wait to knot you**_.”

“I can’t wait either,” Stiles admits, all but hugging the werewolf as his fingers move lazily in the thick fur, “Maybe you should stop putting it off so much,” he says, “I get that it’s serious for you, but do you think that if I had any second thoughts about it all that I’d still want it so much?”

“ _ **I know**_ ,” Derek says and lets out a soft huff of breath, “ _ **I need to start preparing you**_.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks curiously, even though he knows what ‘prepping’ is, he just doesn’t understand what the werewolf means  by ‘ _I need to start_ ’.

“ _ **Before we knot**_ ,” Derek explains, whining suddenly as a sharp trill runs over his body and he shakes out his fur, “ _ **Days before**_ , _ **so that you know what to expect**_ , _**so I don’t hurt you**_.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Stiles says surely, but narrows his brows curiously, “But um, how are you gonna prepare me?” he asks.

Derek reaches out for the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and taking out one of the larger plugs and setting it down in front of Stiles as he leans in to lick at the younger man’s neck, “ _ **It gets big**_.”

“You’re not-you’re not gonna start me out with one that big, are you?” Stiles asks, eying the plug skeptically.

“ _ **No**_ ,” Derek says, putting it back and taking out the first, to show Stiles, “ _ **You’ll work up to it**_ , _**like I said**_ : _**preparing**_.”

Stiles’s hand trembles some and he reaches out to take the small plug from Derek, turning it over in his hand as he looks at it, “We could do this one now,” he offers, raising a brow at the werewolf, “It’s not so big, I could probably just put it right in.”

Derek’s eyes widen as he looks at Stiles and swallows, “ _ **Not dry**_ ,” he says as his mouth waters.

“Well no, not dry,” Stiles smiles and sits the plug down in order to undo his pants, pulling the zipper down before shimmying out of them. It’s a little odd, being surrounded by a mammoth of a werewolf, but at the same time, it’s kind of comforting.

Derek shifts slightly, his tail wagging curiously as he watches Stiles, licking his teeth as he pushes the pants off the side of the bed and reaches out to run his paw over the younger man’s leg, “ _ **Stiles**_ , _ **are**_ - _ **are you sure**_?”

“We’re not having sex right now, Derek,” Stiles says and shrugs, touching the paw on his leg before kissing the werewolf’s muzzle again, “It’s fine. I wanna do this, I just wanna be ready for you already, you know?”

Derek nods as he reaches up, curling a claw over the hem of the younger man’s boxers before tugging them down, “ _ **Okay**_ , _ **if it’s what you want**_.”

“It is,” Stiles confirms and his length twitches curiously when the werewolf pulls his boxers down, ass lifting from the bed to get them off completely. He shifts then, leaning over the werewolf some in order to look through the nightstand.

“Where’d you put the lube?” he asks, sifting through things.

The alpha watches Stiles for a moment in silence before he leans in, pressing his muzzle against the younger man’s backside and lapping out between Stiles’s cheeks, over the soft, tight entrance, tongue practically dripping hungrily as he growls.

“Ho-Holy shit!” Stiles’s body jerks at the sensation and before he even realizes what’s happening, he lets out a pitiful sounding whine, looking back and eyes widening when he sees the werewolf.

“Oh God,” he mumbles numbly, cock lurching anxiously at the feel of Derek’s coarse tongue, “T-That works, too.”

Derek pulls back finally, his tongue licking out over the younger man’s left ass cheek once before he sits back and waits, watching Stiles as he pants.

Stiles whimpers when the alpha pulls back, but he stays in the same position and watches the werewolf, gaze rapt on Derek as he teases his hole with the blunt end of the plug. He pushes it in about halfway before pulling it back out again, mouth slack and cock leaking, and he wets his lips and groans as he pushes it in all the way.

Derek growls low in approval and reaches out for him, his large claw wrapping around Stiles’s waist and pulling him back. It takes everything he has not to remove the plug and just mount him already, his heavy breaths coming out as sharp whines as he scents Stiles and his massive black claw reaches down to touch the younger man’s erection carefully, brushing over the beading pre-come slick around his foreskin.

“Derek,” Stiles gasps and tangles his fingers in the werewolf’s fur, brows drawn in tight together, “D-Do you think you could-I mean, I dunno if you can, but if not… I could totally like, do it myself, if watching me isn’t an issue for you right now?”

Derek huffs, taking the thin length in his grip and carefully tugging at it, his other claw running up Stiles’s stomach and chest as Derek leans in, licking into the boy’s mouth as he curls in close and **surprisingly** he hasn’t lost control, considering it’s full moon night - normally at this time he would’ve broken something.

The coarse lupine tongue inside of his mouth causes Stiles to whimper, equal parts aroused and tentative about all of this, but he’s always been the type to jump in headfirst and this is no different. He tries to relax more against the werewolf, breath coming out in short, rapid puffs as he wets his lips, his own tongue inadvertently brushing Derek’s.

The alpha pulls back to look at Stiles, staring at the boy as he whines and runs his wet tongue over Stiles’s face, his claw carefully jerking his partner’s cock as Derek tries to climb completely on the bed, the wooden frame groaning under his weight.

Stiles smiles weakly at the tongue laving against his face and busies his fingers in the fur behind the werewolf’s ears, holding Derek close as gasps and long winded moans escape him, hips jerking with each gentle stroke of the alpha’s hand, “ _Derek_.”

Derek moves onto the bed, his hind legs curling underneath him as he leans down to lick and taste Stiles’s chest, tongue running over the boy’s hard nipples and his free hand moves under his partner, wrapping carefully around the back of his neck, claws meeting in the front as his tongue runs over the soft patch of chest hair between Stiles’s pecs.

Stiles can’t help but think that this is _anything_ but vanilla and it’s slightly humorous to him, because neither one of their sex lives before this were very interesting and yet here they are, both partaking in bestiality of all things.

He should’ve expected as much, anyway, especially considering he wanted to be in a relationship with a werewolf. It’s all just going to take a while to get used to. Maybe not an extraordinarily long time, considering the way his body reacts to Derek’s tongue, but still.

He groans weakly and watches Derek with wide eyes, cock throbbing impatiently every time the werewolf’s tongue touches his skin, “M’close.”

“ _ **I know**_ ,” Derek says, his own body shaking eagerly as he waits for it, his tongue licking down Stiles’s happy trail. He scents the boy as he gets lower, the strong smell of impending release taking over and he drops his head down even more, licking Stiles’s thighs, tongue curling between them and running over the flat back of the plug in his boy.

“D-Derek,” Stiles says again, gasping as his mouth drops open.

It’s overwhelming and it makes him lightheaded, clutching desperately at the werewolf’s fur as he grunts and whimpers, orgasm slamming into him suddenly and he cries out. He’s never been particularly loud, not in this regard, but it’s so good it’s like he literally can’t keep it in, the sound of his debauched voice making his cheeks heat.

Derek looks up, watching Stiles and licking his teeth as the younger man’s seed spills over his skin, the alpha leaning down to lav it up before returning to Stiles’s side and pulling him close.

“ _ **Mine**_ ,” he says as he presses his wet nose to his partner’s neck, “ _ **My boy**_.”

“Oh God,” Stiles murmurs weakly at the nickname and if he didn’t feel so tired, he’d probably be rock hard again already, “I am,” he confirms, smiling at how the werewolf’s wet nose tickles against his skin, “I’m yours.”

He curls into the fur and he feels so safe, so loved, completely surrounded by the older man, “Always.”

* * *

“The cards found in Sherry Nova’s bedroom were the same ones in the front of the office,” Derek says as he looks over a few photos taken of the cork board, “Which means he might have actually came to the building here…”

Stiles watches Derek’s face and he knows he should be paying more attention to the actual words coming out of his partner’s mouth, but he’s on his second or third (he doesn’t even know anymore) plug and it’s insistently nudging up against his prostate, especially when he edges to the end of his seat and rocks back and forth slightly. He’s never really felt like this, infinitely aroused and unable to get off because he’s at work.

Reaching up, Stiles wipes the light sheen of sweat from his forehead and nods numbly at the werewolf, “Uh huh,” he mumbles, hoping Derek isn’t expecting him to say much.

Derek tries to ignore Stiles’s scent as he glances at the younger man, “The writing on the back of the cards was done with his left hand.”

“O-Okay,” Stiles says lowly and shifts, rolling his hips as subtly as possible and his mouth pops open when the plug goes a little deeper, causing him to whine weakly.

He stares at Derek as his hands grasp at the papers on his desk, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and wets his lips, “ _Derek_.”

“Stop shifting on it and leave it alone,” Derek growls as he stares at Stiles, “I’ve already told you before: _ignore it_.”

“How?” Stiles asks somewhat loudly then, eyes widening frantically, “It feels good,” he says in a harsh whisper, “So good, c-can you just-” his mouth pops open again and he grunts under his breath, spikes of pleasure shooting up his back, “ _Derek_ …”

Derek glances around at the other desks, even though most of the agents are already out on the field, and then he turns to Stiles again, lowering his voice, “ _ **Stop** rocking back on it, Stiles_.”

“S’not gonna help,” Stiles tells him and shakes his head, pupils dilated as he stares at Derek, “Come to the bathroom with me?” he asks, chest heaving slightly from being so wound up, “Please, I’m not gonna make it through the rest of the day.”

Derek sighs and stands up from his desk, walking around to Stiles’s side and all but lifting him from his seat by his forearm before dragging him down the hall and into the bathroom. It's not subtle like the last time they did this, people are bound to notice, but he doesn't care.

He locks the door and pushes Stiles back against it, staring him in the eyes, “If we do this, and we go out there, and you start rocking back on it a second time, I’ll take it out completely, and we’ll stop.”

Stiles frowns slightly and stares up at the older man, nodding mindlessly, he just needs Derek’s hand around him, “Okay,” he says coarsely, reaching down to unbutton his slacks, pulling the zipper down with his gaze still set firmly on the werewolf, “J-Just… touch me, _please_.”

“Okay,” Derek says as he reaches into the younger man’s pants, staring him firmly in the eyes as he wraps his fingers around Stiles’s cock, pulling it out of his pants and tugging at the length as he raises his brows at the purpling head.

Stiles splutters a little, mouth gaping as he watches Derek’s face and he’d probably be embarrassed if he could think straight, but he doesn’t think twice about it when he comes suddenly, the older man barely even having to touch him and he gasps loudly.

His eyes widen as he watches his come splatter against Derek’s shirt, cheeks heating and he swallows nervously, “Whoops,” he says guiltily.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek says in annoyance and glances down at his shirt, then looks at the boy. He reaches up, taking paper towels from the dispenser nearby to try and clean himself off as he looks at Stiles.

Once his shirt is about as clean as it's going to get, he turns the younger man around and presses him flat against the door as he pushes Stiles’s pants down his legs, reaching out to the plug and shifting it inside of him as he leans in to Stiles’s ear, “ _I should take this out of you_.”

Stiles’s cheeks heat even more and he feels horrible for coming on Derek’s shirt, he really does, but when the older man pins him to the door and shifts the plug, all he can do is whimper and try to rock back against his partner’s hand.

“Please don’t,” he begs weakly, “I’ll stop, I won’t rock on it, just don’t-don’t take it out,” he shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

Derek glances down at the way the boy’s body moves back and he smiles knowingly. He might as well get it out of Stiles while he can, just in case he **does** rock back again, at least he’ll have more relief.

The alpha presses Stiles’s hips against the door firmly before shifting the plug again, rolling it around inside of him, “I don’t believe you.”

“D-D-Der-Derek, oh God,” Stiles tries to hide his face in embarrassment, because he’s never stammered over the older man’s name so badly before.

The way his partner is right now reminds him of the conversation he had with Derek, back when he told the werewolf he’d make a good Dom, and he still stands behind the statement, “I didn’t-I didn’t mean to come on your s-shirt, big guy. I’m sorry,” he says again, trying his solid best not to rock back against the werewolf’s hand, “I won’t rock on it anymore.”

Derek licks his lips as he watches the way Stiles reacts to him, “No, you **won’t** ,” he says firmly, turning to kiss the boy’s neck, “But you can right now,” he breathes softly, “ **Only** now, and not once after you leave the bathroom.”

Stiles doesn’t hesitate in the slightest to rock back, hips moving once Derek gives him the go ahead, grunting softly as he reaches back with his right hand and grabs his partner’s thigh, “Can’t wait 'til it’s you inside me and not some fucking plug,” he breathes, cock already hard and leaking again.

Derek chuckles and licks the sweat from the younger man’s skin, “Give it time,” he says as he holds the plug firmly for Stiles, his other hand reaching around to brush lightly along his cock, “You can move more - _faster_ \- if you want.”

Stiles tries to brace himself against the door, palm sliding against it as he all but fucks himself on the plug, clenching his eyes shut as he imagines that it’s Derek instead.

“Mm,” he hums, gasping lowly, shuddering at the feel of his partner’s hand against his sensitive length and it’s a testament to how wound up he still is when he comes abruptly, the orgasm practically wringing all of his energy from him, “Fuck.”

Derek catches the spill of come as much as he can, turning to grab more of the paper towels to clean his hand and throw them away before looking back at Stiles.

“Once more,” he says as he looks down his partner’s body hungrily.

“Derek,” Stiles whines, looking up at the older man and shaking his head weakly, “I-I… I dunno if I can,” he says honestly, feeling physically drained.

“You can, and you will,” Derek says as he pulls the younger man’s hips back, “Until it doesn’t take you a couple seconds to come - keep going, Stiles.”

“So demanding,” Stiles grumbles, even though he kind of likes it. He draws his bottom lip in between his teeth and winces some as he moves his hips, slower than he’d gone before until it starts feeling good again, legs trembling with the motions.

Derek glances at Stiles’s feet and takes his hand from his partner’s cock, running his palm up his boy’s belly, dull nails scratching gently up the center as he presses his lips to Stiles’s ear, “ _Good_ ,” he says as he watches the younger man’s face, the redness of his cheeks, “It’s best to get it out now, while you can.”

“I’m not a teenager anymore,” Stiles tries to reason, brows narrowed as his pace increases some and he tunes out the rude squelching noises, “Can’t keep coming like this,” he gasps, turning his head some as his eyes drop to Derek’s lips, “Kiss me?”

Derek leans in and kisses Stiles, tongue running over his lips and into his mouth as he drags his fingers back down his boy’s body, spreading Stiles’s legs a little as he presses against the plug, fingers curling around the flat base of it and twisting it slightly.

Stiles whimpers against the older man’s mouth when he feels the plug shift inside of him, cock finally taking more of an interest and hardening up some when the silicone brushes against his prostate. He’s sore, but so long as Derek stays close like this, he should be able to force out another orgasm.

“I don’t know,” Derek says pensively as he pulls back to look Stiles in the eyes, “You’re coming fast enough, are you **sure** you’re not a teenager?” he asks as he smirks, his eyes narrowing as he tugs Stiles’s hips back with the plug, worrying the width if it against the younger man’s tight rim.

“You’d-” Stiles starts and stops, pressing his lips firmly together for a moment as he breathes sharply through his nose, “You’d be coming like this if you had-” he huffs out a bated breath, “Three different sized plugs shoved in you over the span of three days, too,” he points out breathlessly, “Oh God, that’s a visual.”

Derek lifts a brow, but doesn’t ask, “Wait until the next one, if you think **this** one is getting you to act like this, the next one is much larger.”

“I’m gonna have to call off,” Stiles muses, hips moving back almost mechanically at this point as his length bobs lazily between his thighs, “Maybe you should just fuck me already.”

“ **No** ,” Derek says firmly, “If you knew how big it’ll be… you wouldn’t be saying something like that.”

“Are we gonna have to do this every time we wanna fuck?” Stiles asks and gasps at the sudden, sharp spike of arousal coursing through him. He reaches down mindlessly and loosely wraps his fingers around his cock, teasing the head lightly, just barely brushing his thumb over the slit.

“Not exactly,” Derek explains, “I don’t have to knot you every time I fuck you. I’ve… never knotted someone before. But if you **wanted** me to, again - afterwards - then yes, I’d probably have to prepare you somewhat.”

“‘Kay,” Stiles says numbly and closes his eyes, trying to focus on getting off before someone realizes where they’ve been this entire time. His grip tightens around his length and he arches his back some, all but shoving himself back on the plug.

“I’m gonna need some help here,” he tells Derek, “Kiss me, bite me, talk dirty to me or something, big guy.”

Derek’s never really done ‘dirty talk’, so he avoids that in case it goes bad and ends up souring the mood entirely. He reaches down, taking Stiles’s cock up again as he drops his head to bite and mark the younger man’s neck the best he can, lips pressing past the collar of Stiles’s shirt as he carefully shifts the plug out of his partner a little before pushing it back in.

“That’s better,” Stiles breathes out and his knees almost buckle on him, the sudden attention from the older man causing his length to throb and now that Derek’s jerking him off, he can put both of his hands against the door for support.

He clenches his eyes shut and focuses on the feel of Derek’s teeth and lips, the soft scrape of his partner’s stubble tickling his skin, and after a few moments he comes again for the third time, grunting in pain as his dick twitches.

Derek catches the fluids once more and turns to clean his hand before he tugs Stiles from the door, pulling the boy’s pants up and making him as presentable as possible. It isn’t easy, considering how flushed the younger man’s skin is, but it’ll have to do, “Go back to work, I’ll clean this up.”

Stiles tries to catch his breath as he looks up at Derek, the ministrations almost casual and he nods, “Right,” he says, licking his dry lips as he cards his fingers through his hair, “Love you, too,” he turns to unlock the door.

The alpha reaches out, turning Stiles back to him and staring into his eyes as he smiles slightly, “I **do** love you.”

Stiles’s lips twitch up slightly and he pushes up onto his tiptoes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his partner’s mouth, “Okay, big guy,” he says, patting the werewolf affectionately on the chest before moving to leave the bathroom.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Sparklinski  
](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sry fer this delayed update, life got in the way a lot this past week.
> 
> ~MageStiles


	8. The Down Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek pulls Stiles close as he reaches back to turn the water on, one hand moving to unbutton the front of the younger man’s shirt as he tugs it out of Stiles’s pants and stares down at him.

After cleaning up the bathroom at the office and having to go back to his desk and hide (as well as he could) the stain on his shirt - no thanks to Stiles - it’s nice to be home finally and not have to sit across from his partner.

Sitting there and smelling the release and seed was almost suffocating, he’s surprised he managed to get through it without jumping the other man.

Stiles grins slowly and wraps his fingers around Derek’s wrist, pulling it away from his shirt as he watches his partner’s face, “You know I can undress myself, right?” he asks, gaze now locked with the werewolf’s as he finishes unbuttoning the fabric. He’s still sore and wrung out from earlier, but being able to relax and take a nice hot shower with his partner is definitely appealing.

“I’m more than aware of what you can do,” Derek says as he reaches up to take off his tie, loosening it and removing it from his collar as he reaches out again, drawing Stiles in and pushing the shirt from the younger man’s shoulders.

“Mm,” Stiles hums when Derek pulls him closer and he inhales the older man’s scent subtly, eyes flicking back up curiously, “You were extraordinarily bossy today,” he points out, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, “Is that gonna become a common thing, or..?”

Derek lifts a brow at the question and feels his heart race a little as he considers an answer. It’s been a while since everything that happened in the bathroom at the office, he wasn’t really that aware of how he was acting, before. He’s not even sure where it **came** from, but his wolf can be insistent sometimes, so maybe it was just some kind of instinct kicking in.

He’s still not sure, he’s not even sure if he’s against it happening again, “I… probably not,” he says and swallows tightly, “I didn’t mean to get like _that_.”

“I’m not complaining,” Stiles tries to reassure Derek, still grinning slightly as he shakes his head, “In fact, it’s kinda hot when you get all demanding and take charge,” he says lowly, wetting his lips as his gaze drops to his partner’s for a moment.

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles, leaning close to kiss him before pulling back to take off the younger man’s belt, “I wasn’t sure if it was that or just the plug that was making you so aroused,” he admits, unbuttoning his partner’s pants as he looks Stiles in the eyes.

“I’m not gonna lie, initially it was the plug,” Stiles says as he runs his palms down Derek’s chest, “But then you pushed me up against the door and told me what to do, and it was…” he purses his lips thoughtfully, blowing out a shaky breath before slowly pushing his partner’s shirt off of his shoulders, “It was _nice_.”

The alpha nods at the admission and pushes the younger man’s pants down with his boxers, “Okay,” he says as he takes off his own pants and steps out of them before lifting Stiles up and moving them both to stand in the tub.

He runs his palm down his boy’s chest and stomach, around to his back and lower, between his cheeks, fingers brushing the flat base of the plug as he stares at his partner, “If you like it, I’ll do it again.”

Stiles presses his lips to Derek’s right pec and shakes his head, breath hitching slightly, “Nah,” he says dismissively, “It’s okay.” He doesn’t particularly want his partner to do something strictly for his benefit, he wants the werewolf to enjoy it, too.

Derek pulls Stiles under the stream of water, lifting his chin to look him in the eyes, “It’s not a difficult thing to convince me to do,” he says as he leans down to kiss along the younger man’s neck, “I’m an alpha now, it comes _naturally_ to me.”

Stiles tilts his head and his mouth opens some, slack-jawed as he all but offers his neck to Derek, hands reaching up to grasp at the werewolf’s shoulders, “If it comes naturally, then maybe I don’t need to convince you of anything,” he breathes.

“ _Exactly_ ,” Derek says as he takes the skin exposed into his mouth, running his tongue over it before biting Stiles, one hand reaching out to grab the shampoo, the other - still pressed against the plug - takes the end of it with the tips of his fingers and shifts it around inside his boy.

“Derek,” Stiles whimpers, the slight movement of the plug causing his eyes to widen and he digs his blunt nails into the werewolf’s skin, “I-I don’t-I don’t think I can come anymore today,” he says, even though he’s not entirely opposed to testing that theory.

“I’m not trying to make you come,” Derek says as he pulls back, taking his hand away before pouring shampoo into his palm, lathering it together and grabbing Stiles by the back of the neck, pulling him in before running his hands up through the wet hair, “I’m gonna take it out here.”

“And put a different one in when we get out?” Stiles asks curiously, eyes fluttering closed the moment he feels Derek’s thick fingers working through his hair.

“Mhm,” Derek confirms as his fingers move, scratching along Stiles’s scalp as he rinses thoroughly, “Afterwards, yes.”

“Okay,” Stiles says numbly and looks up at Derek, tension easing as the water beats down on his muscles.

The alpha washes himself as well before soaping down Stiles’s body, his hand sliding between the younger man’s cheeks again, his other running between Stiles’s legs, under and around his balls before he drops to his knees and traces the body wash down his partner’s thighs as Derek presses his mouth to Stiles’s stomach, lips brushing the scar from the bullet wound.

Stiles watches Derek in awe, right hand lifting up to card gently through his partner’s hair. It seems kind of humorous to him that he actually had a mini breakdown over no one wanting him, over no one wanting to be with him because of his scars and yet, here the older man is, kissing one of them and proving him wrong.

Derek glances up at Stiles as the soap rinses from his body and he turns the smaller man to the wall of the shower, pressing him against it as Derek positions himself behind his partner and stands back up, fingers returning to the plug as he shifts it again, pulling at it carefully as he leans in to the younger man’s ear, “ _Relax_.”

“ _I am relaxed_ ,” Stiles tells him lowly, pressing his palms to the shower wall as he tries to look back at Derek, wanting to feel more of the older man’s body against his own.

Derek slowly eases the plug out, setting it aside as he spreads Stiles’s cheeks, staring hungrily at the worried hole before reaching out to press his fingers inside. He leans down, kissing and biting his partner’s neck and shoulder, finger sliding in effortlessly.

Stiles gasps at the sensation and even though he’d been pretty insistent about not being able to get off, his body betrays him and his length hardens, because Derek’s fingers are so much better than a stupid silicone plug, “Oh God.”

“Feels good?” Derek asks softly as his fingers curl, brushing over Stiles’s prostate lightly as his other hand reaches around to fist his cock, his tongue running up the younger man’s neck as he looks at Stiles.

Stiles barely manages to nod, legs trembling as he keeps his head tilted some for the werewolf, “Derek,” he all but whines the name, pushing his hips back eagerly in an attempt to get his partner’s fingers deeper.

Derek leans in and kisses Stiles, his fingers thrusting inward quickly, his tongue pressing between the younger man’s lips as he all but lifts his partner clean off the bottom of the tub, a third finger slipping in as his other hand starts slowly working Stiles’s length.

Stiles groans against Derek’s mouth and his hips twitch slightly, inwardly struggling with himself over wanting to thrust into the older man’s hand and wanting to cant his hips backwards on the fingers keeping him spread open.

“ _Please_ ,” he begs weakly then, nudging the werewolf’s nose with his own.

Derek growls at the sound of Stiles begging and he pulls both hands back completely, looking into the younger man’s eyes as he tries to breathe calmly, his own body shaking with excitement.

“Stiles,” he says tentatively, reaching out to grab his partner’s hips and he’s not sure if he **wants** to ask, or if he should just take it for himself. His fingers grip the skin firmly as he watches Stiles for a moment and then he shifts closer, arching the younger man’s back, lifting Stiles onto his toes as he presses his length against the worn hole.

Stiles’s length throbs in anticipation and he stares back at Derek the best he can, “That’s it, big guy,” he encourages as he wets his lips, then shifts his hips back to urge the werewolf inside of him, “Fuck.” He reaches back with one hand, grasping at his partner’s slick thigh as he tries pushing further back on Derek’s length.

The alpha watches his boy’s eagerness and he lets out a shaky breath as his eyes widen and he pulls Stiles back, length sliding in. It’s not surprising that the younger man is **still** tight around him, but it’s more than welcoming, muscles lax as he shifts on his feet.

He doesn’t stop until he’s almost in completely, the base of his knot just barely brushing Stiles’s cheeks and Derek swallows dryly and drops a hand to run along his partner’s thigh.

“Come on, baby,” Stiles says breathily, reaching down to touch the hand on his thigh as he focuses on how good the stretch of Derek’s cock is, “Move a little more, fuck me,” he prompts, clenching his hole around the girth as he stares into the werewolf’s eyes.

Derek shifts even closer still, one hand grabbing Stiles’s waist and holding him against the wall as he starts pulling back out, groaning weakly as he does so, and then he holds the younger man firmly before drawing Stiles back onto him, his hips arching slightly once he’s in again and another growl escapes his throat as the base of his knot is tried.

“Stiles,” he gasps as he moves, his whole body trembling as he struggles to keep his legs still on the floor of the tub.

Being able to finally have Derek in him like this is going to spoil Stiles and he knows he’s not going to want another plug after this, the flesh feels so much better than the plastic and he grunts as the older man pulls him back. He tries to keep up as well, not wanting to rely strictly on the werewolf, so he pushes his hips back, moans getting louder as he tests himself on his partner’s knot, trying to go back just a little further each time, rim stretching tightly around the girth.

Derek reaches out to shut the water off as it starts getting cold, his arms wrapping around Stiles as he lifts the younger man and removes them both from the shower, walking out and down the hall, into the bedroom before laying his partner on his hands and knees on the mattress. The alpha climbs atop him, pressing back in easily and resting his chest against Stiles’s shoulder blades as he kisses the younger man and starts moving again.

Stiles kisses back almost desperately, brows narrowed in concentration and he whimpers lowly against Derek’s mouth, “Oh my God.” He tries to move his hips back, but it’s difficult under the werewolf’s weight, “You gonna knot me?” he asks breathlessly.

“No,” Derek says as he moves quickly, breaths escaping his mouth as he holds the younger man’s waist in one hand, his other moving to take Stiles’s right and lace their fingers together, “Not now, you’re… not ready for that.”

“Please, Derek,” Stiles begs and squeezes the werewolf’s fingers between his, hole clenching instinctively when he feels the length inside of him brush against his prostate, “I trust you, you won’t hurt me, just-just knot me, please? I want you to.”

Derek growls loudly, “ **No** ,” he says as his length throbs, knot swelling slightly and he shakes his head, “I know you trust me, that’s not the problem,” he lets out a huff of breath against Stiles’s cheek as he holds his partner close, “I **will** hurt you without proper preparation, Stiles, and it wouldn’t be safe.”

“I just want you already,” Stiles whines weakly, turning his head some more to press their lips together, “I want you to mate me, officially make me yours and I’m-” he sighs, but the sigh turns into a soft moan, “I’m tired of waiting.”

“It won’t be much longer,” Derek says as he thrusts in quicker, the water between them causing awkward, embarrassing sounds, but he pointedly ignores it, “Soon, I’ll knot you, but you **have** to wait,” he explains as firmly as possible, “Something as important as this can’t afford to be rushed, and done _wrong_.”

Stiles’s brows furrow in disappointment and he doesn’t really want to give up, but he knows how much this means to Derek, so he sighs and nods, deciding that having some of the older man like this is better than nothing. And it’s more than he even anticipated happening today, so really, things could’ve been worse.

“Okay,” he concedes and tenderly kisses the werewolf again.

Derek chuckles weakly, grabbing Stiles’s cheek in his large hand and holding him close, “Always impatient,” he murmurs as he moves, his knees sliding up on the bed, pushing Stiles until they’re closer to the headboard and he takes a pillow, shoving it under the younger man’s stomach.

“Generally, yeah,” Stiles smiles weakly to himself and gasps when Derek props his body up a little higher, cheeks heating when he glances back over his shoulder to meet the werewolf’s eyes.

The alpha stares back, his whole body trembling as he moves, fighting off the urge to shift or knot Stiles up. It’s not helping that the younger man is asking for it, even begging.

As much as he wants this to last longer, they **do** have to do other things before sleep, and the longer he draws this out, chances are he’s going to end up losing his control and knotting Stiles up anyway, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Stiles says at once and reaches around the best he can to touch Derek’s cheek, weakly scratching against the stubble before he kisses the werewolf. He wants to tell his partner just how much, tell him that he’s never really loved someone else this much, not like this, but he bites his tongue and opts to continue kissing his boyfriend instead.

Derek kisses back heatedly, breath hitching as he pulls Stiles back up onto his knees and the alpha thrusts into him quickly, the base of his knot testing Stiles’s entrance every time, his arms wrapping around the younger man completely. He breaks the kiss, dropping his head to scent Stiles’s neck, trying to get himself closer by surrounding himself with his boy.

Stiles reaches down and covers the arms around him with his own, fingertips moving gently through the hair on Derek’s forearms and he tilts his head once again, chest heaving, “Mark me,” he encourages softly, “The way I know you want to, not just your typical little love bites. Mark me, Derek.”

The alpha narrows his brows and, as much as he shouldn’t, he’s already said ‘no’ to Stiles once about knotting - and his wolf is pushing at him insistently to _go ahead and do it already_.

He turns the younger man slightly onto his side, Derek’s upper half curling around to the front and he presses a quick kiss under Stiles’s right pec before leaning up, running his tongue over his partner’s nipple. He shifts up even higher, eyes locked on Stiles’s as he turns towards the soft flesh between his boy’s shoulder and his chest - just at the curve - and Derek opens his mouth to bite Stiles hard, teeth sinking in as he sucks the skin into his mouth.

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” Stiles hisses and watches Derek with wide eyes, pain shooting throughout his chest and he buries his fingers in the werewolf’s hair, tugging gently as he gasps and squirms.

Derek stills so that he doesn’t tear the skin, finally pulling back and licking at the mark he’s left before tilting his head to kiss Stiles as he starts moving again, his breathing more labored now, growing closer as he tries to keep as calm as possible, his claws sharpening for a moment as he gasps.

Stiles doesn’t bother removing his hands from Derek’s hair, kissing the older man heatedly as he groans and whimpers, hole clenching when he feels the subtle pricks of the werewolf’s claws against his skin, “Want you to come in me,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue against his partner’s lips.

“Stiles,” Derek whines throatily, his toes curling as he closes his eyes and drops his hand to run over his boy’s stomach, turning to press his forehead to Stiles’s cheek for a moment before pulling back and laying the younger man down right, settling over him again.

Stiles is hard, length leaking against the pillow positioned beneath him and if he knew it wouldn’t hurt like hell, he’d try to get off or maybe even touch himself a little more. But given how sore he was just earlier today and how much he’s actually gotten off, he knows beyond a doubt he’d probably end up sobbing with his release.

It’s not so bad just like this, anyway, being completely surrounded by Derek, the older man’s thick length keeping him spread open and stuffed full, so he doesn’t really bother too much with himself.

Derek all but wraps himself around Stiles, moving quickly and breathing in the mix of their scent as he licks his lips and retracts his claws, kissing out along the younger man’s shoulders and neck, nipping and biting as his chest heaves. He’s almost unaware of the sounds he’s making, whines and growls, neck all but arching as he howls and comes at the same time, seed filling his boy as he slumps against him.

“Oh,” _my God_ , Stiles thinks to himself, eyes widening at the sounds and the howl causes him to shiver, grunting under the brunt of Derek’s weight, “You okay, big guy?” he asks softly, grinning to himself.

The alpha pulls back carefully, hands smoothing up Stiles’s sides as he smiles lazily and nods, “Yeah.”

“You... do that often?” Stiles asks curiously, turning some to look at the werewolf, “You know, the whole howling when you come thing?”

Derek sits back on his knees, keeping himself inside of Stiles as he shakes his head, “I haven’t done it before.”

Stiles grins wider at that and nods subtly, “So I do that to you then?” he asks rhetorically, “Awesome.”

“I guess so,” Derek says as he chuckles, “I don’t often do… _most_ of what just happened,” he admits, running his hands over the younger man’s back, fingers kneading the flesh under them.

“Oh my God,” Stiles groans when Derek starts massaging him and his eyes almost roll back into his head, “What about this?” he asks, “Is this a thing you don’t often do? Because if not, maybe you should. You should definitely do more of this.”

“I don’t,” Derek says, leaning down to Stiles’s ear and lowering his voice, “ _But I feel like you deserve it after the day you’ve had_.”

“Tall, sexy as all fuck, **and** caring,” Stiles says to himself and hums his contentment, “I’m gonna marry you some day.”

Derek grins at the words, they seem sincere, but he tries not to take them too seriously - even though that’s what he wants, more than anything else. He leans down, kissing Stiles and carefully shifting his hips atop the younger man as he continues to massage his fingers into his partner’s skin.

Stiles smiles against Derek’s mouth and whimpers, the subtle movement of the older man’s hips combined with his talented fingers all but turning him into a puddle of goo, lax against the mattress, “We could just completely forgo supper and just stay here, for like… you know, forever. That’d be nice. No work, no serial killers, no outside world at all - just you and me.”

“Tempting,” Derek says as he pulls back, “But eventually Scott would come looking and your father would be concerned.” He reaches out for the drawer, procuring a larger plug and setting it by his knees as he starts to move back, length sliding out from the younger man.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Stiles says and lifts his hips from the bed when Derek pulls out, “Don’t do that, just stay in me. You’ve got this whole afterglow thing all wrong, big guy.”

“I want to do this while you’re lax,” Derek responds as he pulls the pillow back into place under Stiles, fingers then pressing back into the younger man, feeling the warm fluid around them before withdrawing some to smear over the width of the plug, “Anything else can wait.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and narrows his brows some when he feels the fingers in him briefly, “But next time we’re just gonna lay here and you’re not gonna pull out of me. I don’t like being deprived of quality snuggling time.”

The alpha lifts a brow at Stiles before arching the younger man’s hips, “Stay,” he says firmly as he pushes the fluids spilling out back in and presses the front of the plug to his boy’s worried, worn hole, rolling the plug against it until it starts sliding in.

“If you want me to stay still, then you should hurry up,” Stiles tells him, mouth gaping open at the press of the plug and his hips twitch some, wanting to roll back against the pressure.

Derek smirks as he watches Stiles’s body go somewhat rigid and he pushes the plug in completely, the width spreading the younger man a little wider than he had. He leans in, tongue lashing out and running up the side of Stiles’s thigh, licking up the seed from his skin.

“Oh my God,” Stiles murmurs numbly, “I really wish an orgasm sounded more appealing right now, because that feels so nice.”

He looks back over his shoulder and raises a brow, taking in the sight of Derek’s huge form behind him, “Did you just… did you just plug all of your come up inside of me?” he asks, already grinning again.

Derek nods as he licks up the rest of the fluids, moving to lay down beside Stiles and pulling the younger man in, “Yes,” he says as he kisses Stiles, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Stiles snorts at Derek and pushes the older man’s shoulders, laying him flat against the bed and wincing as he moves to straddle him, laying down atop the werewolf, “Are you kidding me? Why would that be a problem?” he asks, playing with his partner’s hair as he peppers his face with gentle kisses.

Derek shrugs and shakes his head, “I’m just making sure,” he says as he rests his large hands on the younger man’s waist, “We know a lot about one another, but as far as sex goes… I don’t think either of us even know _ourselves_ there; I don’t wanna cross a line.”

“You didn’t,” Stiles reassures Derek and brushes their noses together, scratching his fingers against the werewolf’s scalp, “It’s actually kinda hot… but is it like-is it a werewolf thing?” he asks curiously.

“I’m not sure,” Derek admits as he leans into Stiles’s touch, “There wasn’t a **lot** I knew before… everything happened - my knowledge is limited as far as my own kind go.”

“If you think about it, it’s kinda like you’re knotting me without actually knotting me,” Stiles says in amusement, smiling as he kisses along Derek’s scruff, “Maybe it’s a breeding thing? I dunno.”

Derek considers the observation and runs his hands up Stiles’s body, “I wasn’t even considering _why_ I was doing it, while I was doing it. I just… did it.”

“Either way, I’m okay with it,” Stiles shrugs and lets out a bated breath when Derek moves his hands, “But then again, I think I’d be okay with just about anything you wanted to do to me. Pretty fucked up, huh?” he asks, pulling his hands back as he sits upright in the werewolf’s lap.

“Not really,” Derek says as he looks along Stiles’s body, “I could easily say the same,” he admits then and runs his palm over the other man’s stomach, his wolf all too pleased about his seed being stuffed up in his boy, “It’s unnerving, but it’s not ‘fucked up’.”

“You could say the same?” Stiles quirks a brow at that and reaches down mindlessly to cover the hand on his stomach with his own, “What if I said I wanted to fuck you?” he asks seriously, watching the werewolf to gauge his reaction, “Would you let me?”

“Yes,” Derek responds without even giving it a second thought, and he would, he’d give himself _more_ than willingly, “I’ve…” he stops before he can say anything more because he’s not sure if this is **quite** the right time to tell Stiles something like that, so he narrows his eyes and shakes his head, “Yeah, I’d let you be top.”

Stiles is somewhat taken aback by the response and he grins almost stupidly down at the older man, reaching up to scratch the side of his head, “Wow, okay. I wasn’t really expecting you to say that, but I’m…” he chuckles, “That’s awesome, because you have a really nice ass and it’d just be tragic if I never got to get all up in it.”

Derek feels his cheeks heat at the comment and he sits upright, looking down at Stiles as he brushes his thumb along the smaller man’s skin, “Right… are we ready to cook dinner, now?”

“I’m gonna be thinking about fucking you the entire time, but yeah, sure,” Stiles nods and grins wider at Derek, noting the pink tinge to the werewolf’s cheeks and it looks nice on him. He lifts his leg and hoists himself off of the older man, moving slowly to get up off of the bed, “An alpha werewolf at my mercy, yeah, that’s gonna go to my head a little.”

It’s an odd compliment, but Derek takes it for what it is, and he stares at the younger man, eyes dropping down Stiles’s body.

Comparing what he was like last year and how he is now, it’s a drastic change, and it’s almost upsetting. To think that his partner could’ve been like _this_ the entire time - he can afford to have a few things go to his head, it’s what Stiles deserves.

Derek leans in, pressing his lips to the mark he made, “Just don’t go putting it on your Friend Book page.”

Stiles lifts a hand almost at once to cover his mouth, bursting out in laughter until his eyes start watering, “Oh my God,” he wheezes, finally uncovering his mouth to shake his head fondly at the werewolf, “It’s _Facebook_ , baby. Not Friend Book,” he chuckles again in amusement and leans up to kiss the older man, “And I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Derek doesn’t particularly care what the website’s name is, so he doesn’t comment on it, leaning in to lick at the corner of the younger man’s lips, tasting the smile as he moves to the edge of the bed and stands up, “If it wouldn’t draw attention, I wouldn’t mind you doing it - but it would.”

“It’s not like I’d advertise the fact that you agreed to bottom for me, anyway,” Stiles says and pulls on his pajama bottoms, not bothering with a shirt because he wants to be able to see the mark on his skin, “I’m greedy, that knowledge is for me and me alone.”

The alpha chuckles and steps into his own pajama bottoms, tugging them up his legs before turning to Stiles and leaning down to kiss him again, “That doesn’t surprise me,” he says as he smirks, “Seeing as how you handle cases, it doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks, staring up at the older man curiously as he keeps him close by the drawstring attached to his pajamas, “How do I handle cases?”

“Internally, for the most part,” Derek explains, “You don’t have a problem keeping things to yourself. It’s a **good** quality, not a bad one. Considering what I hear around the office most of the time, you’re one of the few that doesn’t mouth off about them.”

Stiles smiles slowly and pushes up on his tip toes to kiss Derek once more, patting his partner’s hip before moving around him to leave the bedroom, “Alright, come on. If we don’t at least get supper started now, I may actually starve to death. I think your appetite is starting to rub off on me a little,” he teases, walking into the kitchen.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Sparklinski](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/)


	9. An Office Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

“Hey,” Stiles says suddenly, “Would you still wanna fuck me senseless if I gained a bunch of weight?” he asks, knowing that it’s a stupid question, because what they have isn’t strictly physical - but still, he can’t stop himself.

“I don’t see why it’d make a difference,” Derek admits, raising a brow because he doesn’t understand why Stiles would ask the question in the first place, “It wouldn’t change how I feel for you.”

“Good answer,” Stiles says and moves to the fridge to pull food out, sitting it all on the counter as he grabs a frying pan from the cabinet.

“So you’d be okay with me dying my hair bleach blonde?” he asks, quirking a brow, “What if I started tanning religiously like those guys on _Jersey Shore_?”

“I don’t know what _Jersey Shore_ is,” Derek responds, “But I wouldn’t care either way.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums to himself and it kind of makes him happy that Derek couldn't care less. Well, maybe that’s not particularly the right word. He’s thrilled that the older man loves him so much that his physical appearance makes no difference.

“I really love you,” he says then, looking at Derek as he brushes past him to grab the seasoning from the cabinet.

Derek watches Stiles curiously, frowning at the unusual questions and he starts washing the chicken, carefully cutting up the pieces as he looks at his partner, “How does the plug feel?”

“Slightly uncomfortable,” Stiles answers honestly, because there's no point in lying to Derek, “But that’s to be expected, right?” he asks, taking the boxes of macaroni and cheese from the cabinet before moving to grab a pot.

“Yeah,” Derek says, eyes dropping along the younger man’s body, already wanting to be back inside of Stiles again, “The larger ones normally do.”

“But it’ll be worth it,” Stiles says, skin heating when he catches Derek looking at him somewhat longingly, “Because you’ll be able to knot me with minimal pain and that’s good, because it’s something I’d like to enjoy.”

“I could make you enjoy it,” Derek responds, “The pain isn’t really the problem, it’s… the possibility of tearing you that I’m most concerned about.”

“I got almost halfway down on your knot just a little bit ago,” Stiles points out, “You won’t tear me,” he insists, running water in the pot before putting it on the stove.

Derek washes his hands and moves to Stiles, turning him around and taking the smaller man’s hand before pressing it against the front of his pajamas, “It gets _bigger_.”

Stiles’s mouth dries out almost instantly and he curls his fingers against the flaccid length, feeling the large swell of the knot as he wets his lips, “You really shouldn’t make me grope you like this, because now I kinda wanna blow you and we’re in the middle of making supper. You’re so mean.”

“But you see why I’m concerned,” Derek says, pressing Stiles against the counter and leaning down to lick at the younger man’s lips, “It’s not safe.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums and forces himself to withdraw his hand from Derek’s groin, resting his palms on the alpha’s hips instead, “Whatever you say, big guy.”

“If I had tried to knot you today, it would’ve went one of two ways,” the alpha explains, “I could tear you, and we would have to be careful afterwards, likely having to take you to the hospital to get it looked at. Or, I could tear you, and the scent of your blood would excite me and I’d shift, which would increase the size of _everything_ , and I’d probably kill you in the process, if not soon afterwards.”

“Okay,” Stiles says slowly, eyes widening just a bit as he stares up at Derek and lifts his hands to clutch the older man’s cheeks, pulling his head down some so he can kiss the werewolf soundly on the lips, “I get it.”

“Good,” Derek says as he moves away from Stiles finally to wash his hands again, “Because I’m not explaining it again.”

Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek for a moment, because he didn’t ask him to explain in the first place, all he’d said was ‘whatever you say, big guy’. He doesn’t comment on it, though, rolling his eyes at the older man before opening the box of macaroni and cheese to pour it in the boiling water.

“You tested me earlier,” Derek explains as he smells Stiles’s confusion, “That’s why I’m mentioning it now. Imagine if I’d lost it then, we wouldn’t be cooking dinner right now,” he says as he seasons the pieces of chicken.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry,” Stiles says shortly, moving to grab a spoon from the drawer to stir the macaroni, “But, I dunno, the attitude wasn’t really necessary,” he points out, then repeats Derek’s words, “‘Because I’m not explaining it again’.”

He frowns then, “I get that I’m persistent and it can… get on your nerves, but you don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child.”

Derek shakes his head, “You **are** a child,” he repeats as he looks at Stiles and chuckles, “I’m not talking down to you, I’ve had to explain it in multiple different ways. The reason I said it that way, that time, is because your life is at risk - and for about the billionth time since I’ve known you, you’re not heeding my words, Stiles. You never do.”

His eyes run over the boy’s body, “I don’t want anything to happen to you because of something I warned you about, and you disregarded it like you always do. I’d prefer to knot you more than the one time.”

Derek says he’s not talking down to him, but it’s exactly what it feels like, so Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just glances at the older man briefly before moving to grab the milk from the fridge, sitting it on the counter for when the macaroni gets done. He’s not trying to act childish, or give Derek the silent treatment, but it’s like he’s being chastised for being who he is and he doesn’t know what to say to that.

The alpha places the chicken on the trays, setting them side by side in the oven before moving back to wash his hands again. He dries them quickly, grabbing down a second and third pot and filling them both with water, placing them on the back burners before he looks at Stiles again, “You’re taking what I’m saying personal, aren’t you?”

“Maybe?” Stiles shrugs, “I dunno. It’s kinda hard not to when you’re talking to me **about** me. I apologized, so I’m not sure what else you want me to say.”

“I’m just trying to be honest with you, and even though I’m getting onto you for something you did, it’s not to say that it wasn’t… exciting at the time. I don’t want you to apologize for doing it at all, I want you to learn, so you know me.”

Stiles nods to himself and he’s otherwise quiet for a few moments, brows narrowed pensively and he turns to Derek then, “Do you really think I’m a child?” he asks, watching the werewolf carefully.

“I don’t think you’re a child, Stiles, I **know** you are,” Derek says, “The fact that you focus on it, and feel like you have to prove yourself, or bring it up, only reaffirms it even more. We’ve had this conversation before, and it’s not an insult. Does it bother you that I think of you that way?”

“Yeah,” Stiles admits weakly and nods, “It does,” he says, swallowing dryly as he frowns, “And I don’t see why wanting you to think of me as a man makes me a child.” He lays the spoon on the counter and washes his hands, looking away from Derek as he dries them.

“That’s not the only thing, that’s one of many,” Derek says as he moves to Stiles, turning him around and lifting his chin to stare into his eyes, “You act rash, you don’t listen, you do stupid things sometimes, you’re loud, and when reacting to certain things you take a ‘childish’ approach rather than anything logical.”

He leans down to meet him at eye level, his thumb brushing Stiles’s lips, “You take offense, instead of thinking things over clearly and being responsible for yourself and your actions. And when you ask me if I ‘really think you’re a child’, you sound worse doing it. You’ve done it twice now, at least.”

Stiles fights the urge to pull away or grit his teeth as he stares back at Derek, nodding along to everything his partner’s saying. He’s not sure if he can act the way the werewolf wants him to, to not act out and listen more, to stop doing 'stupid things' and shut his mouth more often, but he’ll try, if it means it’ll help his partner see him as more than a child, “I won’t do it again.”

Derek lets out a short breath and lifts Stiles from the ground, setting him on the counter and staring at him still, “That’s not what I’m telling you to do at all,” he says as he runs his hands up the smaller man’s thighs, spreading them and pulling him closer as his eyes narrow, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to change who you are. These things, these qualities about you aren’t something I want to change. But they do make you very… childish.”

“You’re not losing my respect because of them, and it doesn’t mean I’m going to start making sure you tie your shoes, or treat you like you aren’t capable - you can’t disagree with me, Stiles, you know I’m right. You know who you are, you know you’re… quick, and you don’t think. But doing some _certain_ things around an alpha werewolf might get you hurt. I just want to make sure that those ‘certain things’ are clear with you, and that you know better.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” Stiles responds and keeps his hands on the counter-top, “You may not want me to feel like I have to change who I am, but if these qualities, these traits about me make me ‘childish’, then I guess I need to change a little. Because I don’t want you to think of me as a child, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how Heather saw me and it’s not what I want from you. So, I’ll do what I have to do - I suppose - and grow up a little bit.”

Derek growls and shakes his head, “That’s **not** how she saw you,” he responds, “That **bitch** didn’t see you at all, are you that fucking **thick in the head**? You weren’t a child to her, Stiles, you were an ant. She didn’t care about you, and from the first time I met you she was already cheating on you.”

He huffs and moves away for a moment before returning and grabbing the younger man’s jaw, staring at him firmly, “ _ **I don’t want you to change**_ ,” he growls lowly, “ _ **I want you like you are, I just want you alive**_. **Mine, my mate, my boy, mine**.”

Stiles leans in closer and presses his forehead to Derek’s, “If you don’t want me to change, then what the fuck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to make you see me as more than just a child, Derek, huh?”

“You’re not **just** a child,” Derek says as he tries to keep himself in check, his claws scraping lines into the wood of the counter below Stiles, “It’s just a word, why does it mean so much? It’s not to say that I look down on you, or I think you’re inferior… if anything, I put you above me. Why do you feel like it’s an insult, like it’s something wrong, like something about **you** is wrong?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Stiles raises his voice a little and leans in to kiss Derek roughly for a moment, pulling back to look at the older man with watery eyes, “I don’t fucking know. I just-I don’t wanna be a child in your eyes and to me, it **is** an insult. I don’t wanna be a child,” he repeats.

Derek reaches up to take the younger man’s face in his hands, wiping the tears from Stiles’s eyes with his thumbs, “You’re focusing on one word out of about five **hundred** I’d use to explain you, and it’s one of the most insignificant of them.”

He pulls Stiles close, one hand dropping to touch the mark on the younger man’s skin, “I’m not Heather, and I don’t think like her, and whatever thing inside of her that forced her to do to you what she did isn’t something that’ll happen with me - whether you’re a child or not. It doesn’t mean I don’t take you seriously, Stiles, it doesn’t mean that I care about you any less. I don’t know what the word means to you, but it doesn’t mean the same to me, and you’re gonna have to be an **adult** and understand the difference.”

Stiles’s bottom lip quivers slightly and he reaches up to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck, hugging him tightly as he buries his face against the werewolf’s neck, “Ten years and I thought losing her would be the end of me, but I was wrong. I love you more now than I’ve ever loved her and I don’t wanna lose you, I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize how much better you could do, because I’m childish. Losing her was nothing, but losing you would kill me.”

“It goes both ways,” Derek says, voice softening as he wraps his arms around Stiles, his hands smoothing over the boy’s back, “I have just as many concerns - that you would leave, that you would get tired of dealing with a broken, pack-less alpha.”

He turns to brush his lips against the top of Stiles’s head, “You **can** do better, you already have. You could walk down the road and meet the first person on the street and be able to do better than me.”

Stiles isn’t sure how the conversation went from him being insecure to Derek being insecure, but he shakes his head and pulls back enough to look the older man in the eyes, “You’re fucking stupid,” he says softly, “I may be able to do better, according to you, but I don’t want _better_. I want you, I’m always gonna want you.”

Derek smiles and nods, staring back at Stiles, “ **Exactly**."

"You’re just as ‘fucking stupid’, because I’ll continue to want you for the rest of my life, Stiles. I won’t just wake up one day and think differently,” he leans in and kisses the younger man, “And in ten years, fifteen, twenty, when this is just like it is now - if not better - you’re gonna realize just how stupid you really are.”

Stiles snorts and smiles sadly, pulling Derek in by the sides of his neck to kiss him again, then again and again, “Twenty years, huh?” he asks, smiling wider, “You really must be in this for the long haul.”

“Werewolves normally are,” Derek says as he leans down to press his lips to the mark on Stiles’s chest, “These things are serious, Stiles,” he explains, “Marking isn’t something I’ve done before - knotting, mating - it’s all new. It’s new because I’ve never wanted to have someone around me for the _rest of my life_.

"Once we’re mated, it won’t just be something we’ve done, it’ll tie me to you until I die. That’s why, when I explained it to you the first time, I said it was something like marriage, only you can’t take it back.”

“So in actuality, it’s even more serious than marriage,” Stiles says, carding his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“I like that,” he admits, “I would say I like the idea of us getting old and wrinkly together, but I dunno if you’ll even look old and wrinkly. I’m probably gonna look eighty and you’re still gonna look like you’re in your thirties, aren’t you?” he glances over at the stove and sighs, “Pretty sure I burned the macaroni.”

“Not burned, but it’s probably paste at the least,” Derek confirms and shrugs, “It’s fine, the chicken will be in there longer anyway, it can be remade,” he leans in, scooping Stiles from the counter and setting him back down, “And if it comforts you any, by the time you’re thirty, I **will** start showing grays. I won’t look thirty when you’re eighty, I’ll look… fifty, maybe a few years younger.”

Stiles chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s… crappy,” he says, moving to get the macaroni off of the stove, opting to sit the whole thing in the sink for now as he moves to get a new pot, running some water in it, “I’ll look like I belong on my death bed and you’ll still be hot, jerk,” he says, no heat to his words.

Derek moves to Stiles and wraps his arms around the younger man’s waist as he turns down the pots of water in the back, swapping one with Stiles’s, “Still knotting you and fucking you - taking care of you,” he breathes into the younger man’s ear, then turns his head to look him in the eyes, “I’ll still love you like I do now.”

“You better,” Stiles says and grins at Derek, pursing his lips expectantly.

The alpha runs his hands over Stiles’s skin, dropping his chin to rest on his partner’s shoulder, “By then, I’ll have to be somewhat disconnected from things - work, society, it’s not as easy these days for people not to notice a man aging **that** slow, looking fifty and being over ninety.”

“Mhm,” Stiles mumbles and wiggles his still pursed lips, chuckling under his breath as he raises his brows at Derek and waits on his partner to kiss him.

Derek lifts his brows and realizes what Stiles is doing, he leans up, running his tongue out over the younger man’s lips before grabbing his cheek and leaning even closer to kiss him heatedly, stealing his breath.

“Mm,” Stiles hums appreciatively and smiles against Derek’s mouth, “S’more like it,” he murmurs and kisses back.

* * *

Derek looks silently over the photos of Sherry Nova’s bedroom for what’s probably the hundredth time in the past week. It’s still somewhat overwhelming to imagine the killer writing in her blood on their cards and leaving them at the crime scene. It’s not good, and he’d be tempted to give over the case to someone else, but him and Stiles are probably the best equipped to handle the situation, regardless of their perp knowing them or not.

“The next body could come up any time now,” he voices tentatively, “He’s getting more impatient, each time it’s closer together than the one before. And we’ve checked the last Ion within the area - we still haven’t found him. We’re no closer than we were after we found Mandy’s body.”

“You know, it’s pessimists like you who bring down optimists like me,” Stiles points out and looks up to offer Derek a tight-lipped smile, trying not to think about the large, mostly uncomfortable plug that’s deep inside of him right now.

“Haven’t you seen CSI shows and shit before?” he asks rhetorically, “It’s usually right around the time when someone says ‘The next body could come up anytime now’ when the next body usually **does** come up, you’re cursing us is what you’re doing. You should take it back.”

“I don’t watch TV shows,” Derek responds tersely, “And that’s done for a dramatic effect, it’s not how things **really** happen.”

He puts the photos to the side, picking up the next case to start working on making a list of leads when he lifts his brows and turns in confusion, frowning and listening carefully before looking at his partner, “Martin’s here.”

Stiles stares at Derek for a moment and furrows his brows, “Isn’t she supposed to still be on maternity leave?” he asks and turns to look towards the elevator, gazing around for her before glancing back at the older man, “Did you literally just hear her pull in or something?”

Derek nods, “She’s coming up to the elevator with the kids,” he says and glances at Scott’s desk as he listens closer, “Visiting, I guess.”

“Who visits their place of work?” Stiles asks rhetorically and shakes his head, even though he can kind of understand why Lydia would want to - it probably has something to do with the kids.

Derek reaches across the desks for one of the files off to Stiles’s left, “I think she just wanted to go outside, that’s what she said to Whittemore.”

“Probably a little stir crazy, having to stay home with the babies all day,” Stiles muses and scrubs a hand over his face, wincing slightly when he shifts in his seat to get closer to his desk.

“Sensitive?” Derek asks curiously, watching Stiles as his eyes darken.

Stiles’s eyes flit up to meet Derek’s and he nods subtly, “I’ve been… constantly stuffed with plugs for the better part of a week,” he says lowly and grins at the way his partner’s looking at him, “So yeah, big guy. I’m sensitive.”

Derek feels his mouth water and he swallows tightly, sitting back down in his seat and smiling slightly at the nickname, “It won’t be like that soon enough,” he says, wetting his lips, “Just a little longer.”

“I know,” Stiles breathes out, distracted by the way Derek’s tongue peeks out between his lips.

The alpha’s eyes run over what he can see of Stiles, and while it’s been like this every day for the past week and a half, he’s still just as impatient to get his partner home after work and take care of him.

He pulls his eyes from Stiles as the elevator doors open and Lydia walks into the front room, “We’ve got time before I finish making a list of leads for the day, if you wanna go see her and the kids,” he offers.

Stiles smiles at Derek and nods, standing up from his desk slowly before meandering over to Lydia and the kids, making grabby hands at Oliver, “Gimme,” he says, all but taking the baby from her arms, “Why are you even here right now?”

Lydia shrugs and smiles as she watches Stiles, “I just wanted to get out of that house, I feel like a caged animal in there.”

“I know it hasn’t been long since you had little man here, but don’t forget Derek and I are still up for babysitting if you and Scotty need a night out,” Stiles mentions, pursing his lips and cooing back at Oliver before bopping the baby gently on the tip of his nose with his finger.

Lydia nods, “You shouldn’t offer it so willingly,” she says, although she understands why Stiles is - she’s not an idiot, it’s pretty obvious that he wants kids - maybe he wants to give Derek a test drive to see how it goes, “I’m tempted to take you up on that offer, I’m exhausted. You’d have to expect no sleep with him, if you boys think you can handle that...”

“We can handle it,” Stiles reassures her and grins when Oliver squeals, his chubby little arms flailing excitedly, “Huh, Ollie?” he asks and nods, “Yeah, tell mommy we’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think he’s quite ready for words yet,” Lydia responds as Heidi pulls from her and runs into the office to see Scott, “You think you can handle it, but there’s all kinds of things, Stiles - burping, changing, bathing - it’s a lot to handle for two men, I mean, **I’ve** done it before.”

“That’s so incredibly sexist of you, Lyds, I’m offended,” Stiles scoffs and pinches Oliver’s cheek lightly, “Just because we’re two men doesn’t mean we can’t adequately take care of a baby, but if it would make you feel better… why not just… give us a crash course or something?”

“I could, but there’s other things, too,” Lydia says as she chuckles, “Even if I showed you everything, what if something went wrong? What if he got a fever and I was away? You two might not even know something was wrong with him.

"I’ll think about it,” she looks at the way Oliver is with Stiles, and it’s tempting, **really** tempting, just to get some time from the kids, “Actually, can you watch him for a moment? I wanted to talk to Derek.”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles drawls out slowly in confusion and glances back towards their desks, furrowing his brows, “Sure, just… whatever you want to talk to him about, try not to be mean, okay? I know you don’t really like him, but he’s good to me.”

Lydia rolls her eyes and hands over the baby bag to Stiles, “It shouldn’t take long, but if it does…” she moves from him, walking into the office and motioning to Derek, “Can we talk?”

The alpha glances up from his work and nods silently, he was expecting her, of course, but he’s still just as confused about _why_ she wants to talk to him, “What do you want?”

Lydia takes Stiles’s seat and moves it around to Derek’s side, sitting beside him with her purse in her lap as she stares him in the eyes as seriously as she can, “I wanted to apologize to you about… everything I’ve said since I started here. I know I judged you really quickly - like a lot of other people do - but I was wrong. I’m not ashamed to admit I was, I just want to be clear about that and say that I’m sorry.”

Derek blinks in surprise, staring back at the younger woman and it’s the strangest thing he’s experienced since he met Stiles. He’s not sure how to feel about it, so he nods and tries to ignore the knot forming in his throat.

“I know you’re a good person,” Lydia says when he doesn’t respond, offering a weak smile and reaching out to touch his forearm, “And you’re good for Stiles.” She stands up as she stares at him, nodding and removing her hand from him, “I’m just really sorry that I didn’t see that from the start, Derek.”

The alpha sits still as she walks away and he looks down at his work, brows drawing in for a moment before he glances up and meets Scott’s eyes, his lips press together as he feels a sudden, almost painful twinge in his chest and he turns away again.

Lydia walks back to Stiles and reaches out to kiss Oliver’s head, “Maybe we can see about taking some time during the weekend, that way you don’t have to miss work too much.”

“That sounds fine,” Stiles says and looks back at Derek distractedly, turning his gaze back to Lydia after a moment, “What did you talk to him about?” he asks, bouncing Oliver slightly in his arms, “He’s got his pouty face plastered on - you weren’t mean, were you?”

“I wasn’t mean at all,” Lydia responds as she pointedly ignores responding to the first question, “I’m just gonna **consider** letting you guys babysit this early, don’t get your hopes up.”

“Why would I get my hopes up?” Stiles asks simply, raising his brows at Lydia, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love your kids, but I’m not gonna be overly disappointed if you won’t let me babysit,” he tells her, “I just thought I’d be nice and offer.”

Lydia nods and gives him a knowing look, “Of course, that’s the _only_ reason, it’s not like you have… ulterior motives.”

She looks at Derek then and she can see the appeal - she remembers the first time she saw her husband around kids, or when he’d first held Heidi, how it was already making her want a second, “I’ve been there,” she says as she lowers her voice and turns back to Stiles, “So yeah, _don’t get your hopes up_ , I might not let you babysit - not this soon.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Stiles shakes his head and hesitantly hands Oliver back over to her, “But okay,” he nods, “It’s up to you, obviously.”

Lydia giggles and leans in to press a quick kiss to Stiles’s cheek, clearly he’s in doubt, like he’s been with just about _everything_ having to do with Derek Hale.

“Right,” she says again and moves into the office to see her husband.

“Right,” Stiles repeats in confusion and watches her as he scratches the side of his head, frowning before moving back to his desk, sitting down slowly before leaning in to talk to Derek, “So what did she wanna talk to you about?”

Derek glances up from the push-button phone and then takes out his cell, texting Stiles quickly as he turns back into the receiver, “And what’s her number?”

**To: My Boy**

_she apologized_

Stiles jolts slightly when he feels the buzzing in his pocket, then pulls the cellphone out and reads the text from Derek, frowning as he looks from it back up to the older man.

**To: Derek**

_for what?_

**To: My Boy**

_judging_

Derek picks up his pen quickly, writing down the number and pursing his lips, “Are there any other possible people that you think he would try to reach?”

Stiles reads the next text and his frown deepens, though his love for Lydia kind of skyrockets through the fucking roof and he sits his phone down, “Oh,” he utters under his breath and nods to himself, “Okay then, I’m just gonna chalk it up to post-pregnancy hormones or something.”

Derek frowns as Stiles talks aloud and he covers his ear as he listens to the woman on the other side and then writes down the second number before texting Stiles again.

**To: My Boy**

_she seemed sincere_

Stiles sighs when his phone buzzes again and he gets that it’s convenient, it’s talking without having to say anything aloud and Derek’s on the phone, but the back and forth is just kind of tedious. He reads the text and sends one back almost immediately.

**To: Derek**

_which is an oddity in itself. lydia martin doesn’t apologize for anything._

Derek hangs up the phone finally, reading Stiles’s response and meeting his eyes then, “I’m aware of that.”

“Then you should consider yourself special,” Stiles tells him, finally pushing his phone aside for the time being and he looks at his partner seriously, “There are other certain people, those of whom I will not name, that I’m positive she never really liked that well.”

Derek lifts a brow in confusion, unsure of who Stiles is talking about, but he ignores it, “It doesn’t make a difference to me, either way,” he says, even though it’s not _technically_ true, “You wanna go out on leads early?”

Stiles isn’t particularly enthralled with how dismissive Derek is of the situation and it kind of makes his chest hurt in a weird way that the older man doesn’t care what his friends think. He gets the whole ‘it’s not about them, it’s about us’ mentality, but **he** cares whether or not his friends and family approve - in fact, it probably means a stupid amount to him.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbles and stands up to grab his things, making a beeline for the elevator before his partner even stands up.

Derek frowns at the boy’s reaction and stands up, grabbing the paper with their leads and taking his coat and holster in his right arm before following Stiles. He joins his partner at the elevator and looks down at Stiles, “Is it the plug?” he asks lowly.

Stiles looks up at Derek and narrows his brows, “Huh?” he asks in confusion, shaking his head slowly, “Uh, no? No,” he says more firmly, “No, the plug is fine.”

“What’s your problem, then?” the alpha asks as he walks into the elevator with Stiles, still watching him closely.

“What problem?” Stiles deflects, “I don’t have a problem, do you have a problem?”

“Stiles,” Derek says as he narrows his eyes, “ **What** is the problem?”

“Look,” Stiles sighs and turns bodily towards Derek, “It’s nothing, okay? It’s stupid and I don’t wanna argue with you over something I could’ve prevented. So don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not nothing if it’s making you act like this,” Derek observes, reaching up to touch the back of his partner’s neck, ignoring the looks they get when the doors open and he guides Stiles out, walking along the sidewalk and brushing his fingers through the boy’s soft hair, “I’d at least like to know _what_ it is.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods and he can’t help the way he gravitates towards Derek when the older man starts touching him, “It’s just… it’s what you said back in the office, that it doesn’t make a difference to you either way. That’s my problem.”

The alpha stops at his car and turns to look completely at Stiles, “Why is that a problem?”

“Well,” Stiles starts, trying to think of the best way to explain without letting things escalate into an argument, “I’m just-I’m trying to imagine if the roles were reversed, you know? If you had… People close to you, if your family were still alive… It would-It’d matter to me whether or not they approved of me. I love you and I’d want them to like me, but it just…”

He shrugs and looks up at Derek, “You don’t care,” he says, then moves to open the passenger's side door, “See? Told you it was stupid.”

Derek climbs into the driver’s side of the car and sets his things in the back seat like he normally does and waits for Stiles to settle in, “We’re different people, Stiles. I’m gonna be different than you.”

“I know,” Stiles says and he does, he doesn’t understand why it bothers him so much, “You wanted to know what my problem is, so I told you. I know we’re different people.”

“Don’t take it personal,” Derek responds, softening his voice, “I’ve known Martin for years, and it’s nothing against your friends.”

He doesn’t know how else to explain himself without sounding like an ass, so he tries to let Stiles in a little more, “I don’t care what **anyone** thinks - after as long as I’ve had to deal with people, you learn to not care otherwise - but the apology was nice to hear.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods and he’s appreciative that Derek even explained that much, so he leans across the seats and presses a quick kiss to his partner’s lips, “Let’s go.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Sparklinski](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the super late update again, I kinda had some important life things get in the way, but everything should be back to normal now. ^^; Hopefully this chapter isn't complete poop, I tried to edit the best I could while getting it out today before werk.
> 
> ~MageStiles


	10. Knotting and Pupsitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

The last day of Stiles’s preparation is the longest by far, and even though Derek knows it would’ve been easier to go outside of the building to talk to leads or something, he knows that he won’t be able to commit enough attention to it. He tries to avoid his desk, and his partner in general, growing more uneasy and impatient as the hours stretch on.

The car ride back to the house is worse than the third day, and he keeps his hands to himself because he knows that if he does any more than smell Stiles from across the car, he’ll jump his partner and that’ll be the end of it.

Stiles watches Derek carefully on the way home, head tilted and resting against the back of the seat as he wets his lips, “You haven’t hardly come near me at all today,” he points out, “You even backed away from me when I tried to kiss you earlier, so… What’s up?” he asks, grimacing at how fucking _full_ he is when he shifts in the seat.

Derek doesn’t look at Stiles, hands tightening on the steering wheel as he stops at the red light, “Last day,” he mutters as he swallows dryly.

“Last day of…” Stiles is about to ask Derek what he’s talking about, but then his eyes widen with the realization and his heartbeat ratchets up in excitement, “Oh,” he whispers, body suddenly thrumming anxiously, because he’d thought there’d be at least another plug before they… before they actually knotted.

Derek nods as he smells the change in his partner’s scent, the boy’s heart racing and he frowns, “Yeah…” he says as he tries not to breathe through his nose.

Stiles reaches out and rests his hand on Derek’s leg, “Don’t act so disappointed, big guy,” he says, noting the frown on his partner’s face, “This is a good thing, u-unless you’re, you know, having second thoughts about knotting me or something?”

“I’m not having second thoughts,” Derek says at once, “And I’m not disappointed, I-I’m… _eager_.”

“So you’ve been… not touching me and avoiding me all day because..?” Stiles asks, gripping the older man’s thigh some.

“Same reason,” Derek admits and pushes Stiles’s hand away, “Don’t…” he breathes as he presses his lips together, “We need to get to the house first.”

“You know, for someone supposedly so eager, you’re sure as Hell not coming across as such,” Stiles points out and pulls his hand back to his lap, trying not to frown at how frigid his partner’s being with him.

Derek clenches his jaw and takes a right, “I’m trying not to crash,” he says as he huffs, “I’ve been wanting to knot you for a while, it’s difficult to think straight right now.”

“Right,” Stiles says dryly, still watching Derek, “We weren’t in the car earlier, when I tried kissing you at work… you trying to tell me you’re so eager you can’t even kiss me?”

“I would’ve knotted you in front of everyone in the bureau,” Derek says plainly, looking at Stiles then, “I can smell you - your sweat, your breath, your arousal - I can smell and taste _everything_ \- I might as well have been right up against you **all day**.”

“I think I might’ve actually preferred that,” Stiles informs the older man and has to reach down, shifting his hardening length to a more comfortable position so that it’s not getting pinched by his slacks, “Tell me that that thought doesn’t actually excite you, taking me in front of everyone, showing them all who I belong to… it does it for me, I can tell you that.”

Derek groans miserably as he pulls onto his road, “ **It does** ,” He says lowly, “ _I want to_ … _I **should**_.”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes out and watches Derek, able to see now just how worked up the older man is and it, in turn, causes his own arousal to spike, “You should.”

Derek starts to consider holding off knotting his boy until tomorrow for all of two seconds before he manages to remind himself why he doesn’t do things like that. Kissing Stiles and taking his hand are acceptable, but knotting the younger man isn’t something you do at work for many, many reasons. He parks and climbs out of his car with his things in arm, walking to the door and only unlocking the top deadbolt, having anticipated how eager he’d be when he got home.

Stiles moves slower than Derek, but it’s not from lack of excitement. It’s just that with the huge plug inside of him and with his dick being as hard as it is, it’s a little difficult to actually hurry. He lets out a small, almost pained whimper when he reaches the door and raises his brows at his partner expectantly.

The alpha opens the door, walking just inside and dropping everything as he pulls Stiles in, shutting the door and locking a few of the locks as he bends down to kiss the younger man. His hands move quickly to pull Stiles’s shirt from his pants, touching his skin a moment before lifting him off the ground and taking him to the bedroom as Derek leans in to breathe in the younger man’s scent deeply.

Stiles gasps softly and his cock twitches when the werewolf scents him, skin erupting in goosebumps and he tightens his arms around Derek’s neck. He hasn’t really been able to stop thinking about this exact moment since his partner admitted he wanted to knot him. Sure, they kind of have sex, but this is what he’s been waiting for, _the real thing_.

Linking his ankles behind Derek, he leans in to do the same to the werewolf, breathing him in from his shoulder up the side of his neck, lips brushing against the stubble, “Finally gonna make me yours?” he asks heatedly.

Derek lets out a sharp, sudden gasp and he nods, “ _Yes_ ,” he growls as he moves to their bedroom, one hand between them as he unbuckles Stiles’s belt.

He lays Stiles down, pressing a quick, heated kiss to the younger man’s mouth and he’s torn between just fucking knotting his partner already or taking his time. He’s unsure if he should ask, so he settles on pressing his body firmly down against Stiles’s, lifting the boy’s shirt up a little to touch his stomach.

Stiles smiles up at the older man when he’s laid down on the mattress, hands moving frantically in comparison to Derek’s and he tugs anxiously at his partner’s tie, sighing when he finally gets it undone and he tosses it aside. He’s far too impatient to take things as slowly as Derek is, so he all but yanks the werewolf’s shirt open, popping the buttons off of it before attempting to shove the fabric off of his shoulders.

“Maybe you should get to it, then,” Stiles prompts breathlessly, body surging up from the bed to kiss Derek.

“Mm,” Derek mutters as he pulls back, toeing off his shoes as he turns Stiles over onto his stomach, his arms around the younger man as he unbuttons and unzips Stiles’s pants and pushes them down to his knees with his boxers. The alpha lifts Stiles’s hips up with one hand, the other pushing the shirt up his back as Derek leans down to kiss his skin, his other hand moving to grab the flat end of the plug.

Stiles fumbles with one hand to get his top few buttons undone, just enough to actually tug his shirt off over his head, hands still supporting his weight against the mattress and his length throbs when he looks back over his shoulder to Derek. He can’t wait to have _all_ of the older man inside of him and not just some of him, he’s anxious to finally be linked to Derek.

“Come on,” he whines impatiently, wetting his lips as he rocks his hips back, “Sometime today, big guy.”

Derek tugs the plug out carefully, practically panting already as he sets it aside and grabs his partner’s waist, leaning in as he stares at his boy’s gaping entrance before running his tongue around the rim and growling at the sharp taste.

“O- _Oh_ ,” Stiles moans almost at once and the soothing pressure of Derek’s tongue causes the top half of his body to slump down against the bed, “Oh fuck, can you just-” his breath hitches and he reaches down, rolling his thumb against the tip of his length, “Just do that for a minute, it-it feels nice.”

Derek’s not actually sure he can **wait** long enough to do it for ‘just a minute’, but he forces himself to. His mouth waters, hands holding Stiles firmly as he continues to run his tongue over the worn, widened hole, teasing the insides lightly as he smiles to himself at how his boy is reacting.

“ **Derek** ,” Stiles whimpers loudly and wraps the entirety of his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing to keep himself from coming everywhere when he feels the older man’s tongue delve inside him some. The warm, wet muscle in contrast to the harshness of the silicone plug he just had in him is startling, and each swipe of his partner’s tongue causes another undignified sound to escape his throat, “Oh my _God_.”

The older man watches Stiles closely as he presses his face in more, tongue lapping at the younger man’s entrance eagerly, a low growl escaping his mouth as he slowly runs his right hand up Stiles’s leg and grips his ass, his other hand doing the same - spreading Stiles open even wider as the alpha’s tongue darts inside.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles yelps and even though he’s squeezing himself so hard it hurts, when he feels the werewolf’s hands spread him open and the tongue pressing into him, he comes all over the bed beneath him, gasping and blinking as his vision spots out, “D-Derek, please. Oh God.”

Derek pulls back and watches Stiles’s release with wide eyes, his own length throbbing painfully against the front of his pants when the boy begs for him. He sits upright on his knees and starts to take off his own pants, his gaze running over Stiles’s body as he unbuckles his belt.

Stiles buries his face against his forearm, bottom half still propped up for the older man and it’s probably one of the strongest orgasms he’s ever had, because he’s still reeling from it, hole clenching as he pants and gasps and waits for his alpha.

“Please,” he begs again, shamelessly at that, “Knot me already. Please, please, **God** -I just... _Take me_.”

Derek’s body shakes as Stiles begs him over and over again and he’s tempted to gag the boy on something to get him to shut up before the alpha loses it completely. As it is, though, he just waits, chest heaving as he holds himself back, pushing the pants down his thighs, tight boxer briefs following after. He reaches out for Stiles’s hips and grabs him, pulling him back and positioning his length between the younger man’s ass cheeks before thrusting in quickly.

Stiles grunts at the quick movement and bites at his forearm for a moment before glancing back at Derek, eyes wide and pupils dilated as his hands grip the comforter for purchase, “Fucking finally,” he breathes, but he’s so relieved it comes out sounding more like a sob than anything.

Derek closes his eyes for a moment as he holds Stiles, all but gasping as his knot sinks into his boy almost completely, “Ah,” he winces as he pulls back out and growls in frustration as he resists the urge to just get it over and knot Stiles already. He moves quickly, trying to keep going to satisfy himself enough so that he doesn’t knot the younger man prematurely.

Stiles is actually glad that Derek decided to prepare him for this, because he knows now that if the older man hadn’t, he’d be in tears right now. Thankfully, though, it doesn’t hurt. It’s actually kind of the opposite, it feels fucking amazing and he whines in the back of his throat when the alpha pulls back out.

“Derek,” he growls and it’s nothing compared to the werewolf’s low timbre, but he figures it gets the point across, “So help me God, if you’re holding back on me…”

“Holding back?” Derek asks, raising a brow as he runs his left hand up Stiles’s back, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Stiles pants out, shoving his hips back and chasing the older man’s length, “You were almost completely in and then you pulled back out, you’re totally capable of knotting me right this second, but you’re not. Don’t-” he groans, “Don’t prolong it any more than necessary, we’ve both been waiting too long for this, yeah?”

Derek wets his lips and leans down to press his chest to Stiles’s back, ducking his head a little to whisper in his partner’s ear as he moves, “ _I just wanna enjoy this for a moment_ ,” he mutters huskily.

“Mm,” Stiles hums and turns his head, looking into Derek’s eyes before kissing him at the odd angle, “Okay, but I’m… I’m stretched out, okay? So…” his heart starts pounding a little harder, “You can actually… Maybe fuck me with your knot a little?” he urges unsurely, voice lowering.

Derek hadn’t actually thought of doing such a thing, he’s tentative to, though - worried that he might sink in completely and not be able to pull back out because of how his boy feels around him, “Okay,” he says, more breath than words.

His hands push Stiles down flat against the bed, knees settling on either side of the younger man’s legs as he thrusts in as hard as he can, shifting his hips and his eyes all but roll back in his head as his knot forces its way inside.

“Fuck!” Stiles grunts and the grunt turns into a high pitched whine, hole instinctively tightening around the knot for a second before he wills his body to relax, “Come on, big guy,” he gasps out, “Let loose a little, claim me, mount me like I know you want to.”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek says in warning as he feels his wolf pushing forward against him, his thighs lifting as he pulls his knot back out roughly with a loud, almost painful ‘pop’ sound, but he doesn’t think much of it.

He lifts Stiles’s hips up to receive his thrusts as he mounts the smaller man and lays down flush against Stiles, mouth opening as he bites his partner’s shoulder and starts slamming into him quickly, knot occasionally sliding in completely as his toes curl and he growls low and constant in the back of his throat.

“Oh God,” Stiles moans and grips the comforter up in his fists so tight his knuckles turn white, body sensitive yet thrumming from all of the sensation and he wipes his watering eyes against his forearm before canting his hips back the best he can, “Yeah, that’s-fuck, that’s good.”

He can feel his rim being tested by the girth, the harsh, almost violent jabs of the older man’s cock at this angle constantly hitting his prostate and making him leak against the bed, “My mate,” he says numbly, “My alpha.”

Derek growls louder, his body shaking as he pulls his teeth from Stiles’s shoulder and brushes his lips along the younger man’s temple, “ ** _Mine_** ,” He breathes over and over every time his knot pushes in, his hands itching to touch more of Stiles so he lifts the left, wrapping it around his partner’s front to pull him in close as Derek’s thrusts grow short and fast.

“ _ **My boy**_ , _**mine**_ ,” he says as he scents Stiles’s neck and his knot grows slightly, becoming more difficult to push inside of the smaller man.

“Yours,” Stiles agrees almost at once, touching the hand against his skin as he gasps, “I’m yours, Derek, all of me,” he reassures the werewolf and furrows his brows together, other hand reaching back to touch his partner’s thigh.

“Yes,” the alpha says as he licks Stiles’s neck, taking the younger man’s hand in his as he curls against Stiles and shoves his knot in completely, his back arching as he howls. He nearly shifts when he comes, the hand on Stiles’s hip moving around to his stomach, feeling the sudden protrusion of his boy’s belly.

The sound of the werewolf’s howl causes Stiles to shiver bodily, limbs wracking with it, but he calms himself by touching the hand on his stomach, eyes widening at how swollen his abdomen is, “Jesus Christ, i-is that-is that your knot or your come that’s doing that?” he asks in awe, staring down at both of their hands on his flesh.

“Both?” Derek guesses, like he knows, this is his first time doing anything like this. He lays down carefully, curling around Stiles and pressing his lips in short, breathy kisses along the younger man’s neck. He frowns slowly as he brushes Stiles’s skin, already disappointed that his mate won’t become pregnant from this.

“Can I ask you a question?” Stiles speaks up after a moment, voice soft as he scratches his fingernails against the older man’s forearm hair, “I know it doesn’t bother you that I’m a dude, obviously, but is it like… does it sit right with your wolf that I’m not genetically made for breeding?”

Derek frowns at the question, “Why would you ask something like that?”

“Because,” Stiles responds and shrugs weakly, “That’s… kind of the whole purpose of having a knot, it’s for breeding. I dunno, it was just a question, Der, nevermind.”

The odd nickname doesn’t really **annoy** Derek, but he’s not sure if he likes it either, “It’s not an issue,” he says as he runs his thumb over Stiles’s skin, “The wolf is still me, Stiles, and if it bothered me that you were male then I wouldn’t be with you. It doesn’t. I couldn’t care less, as long as you’re who you are.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and he wants to talk more on the topic, but he doesn’t say anything else about it and instead, turns the top half of his body some and touches the werewolf’s cheek before kissing him, “Just making sure.”

“You don’t have to make sure of everything you think might be wrong with you to me,” Derek responds as he stares back at his mate, “If there was anything at all, it wouldn’t be something as trite as your gender.”

“I get it,” Stiles says slowly, eyebrows raising a little and he rubs his fingers through Derek’s beard as he brushes their noses together, “Sorry for bringing it up, I was just curious.”

Derek covers Stiles’s hand with his own and stares at him firmly, “Bring it up as much as you want, I’ll say the same thing every time,” he says as he pulls Stiles in even closer, pressing warm, wet kisses up his mate’s jaw to his ear, “You’re mine now, I didn’t take you because I had any reservations, I took you because I love you; all of you.”

“God,” Stiles breathes out and frowns, heart pounding viciously inside of his chest as he turns his head a little more to press their lips together, “I love you, too. I really do,” he says, kissing Derek over and over again, “It’s honestly kinda frightening just how much I love you.”

“I know what you mean,” Derek responds, kissing back each time, his toes curling as he arches his hips and rolls his knot inside of his mate, “It’s the same for me.”

“Mm,” Stiles groans a little and stops kissing to look at the werewolf, smiling slowly, “Good.”

Derek lays back, holding Stiles close as he tries not to let the worry settle in, thinking over the conversation he’d overheard between Stiles and Lydia before, and now how his mate is asking him if he regrets mating a male. He doesn’t, even though he wants children, he doesn’t regret being with Stiles and giving that opportunity up at all.

But, even though he knows that Stiles told him before that he didn’t want kids, Derek is starting to feel like the younger man might already be having regrets of his own.

* * *

Stiles pries the diaper bag out of Lydia’s hands and tosses it back behind him to the couch, raising his brows at her before pointing at the door, “ **Go** , we’ve got this,” he insists, “We have a phone, you can call if you get worried.”

“I don’t know about this,” Lydia says as she starts having reservations, shaking her head and reaching out for Oliver, “Just-let me hold him one more time, Stiles.”

“No,” Stiles argues and turns his body, giving her his side as he shakes his head, “Because if I let you hold him, you’re not gonna give him back and then you won’t let us watch them. You need to go,” he looks to Scott then and gestures to his wife, “Tell her, man, it’ll be fine.”

“Come on, baby,” Scott urges, walking up behind her and trying to pull her towards the door after kissing her neck, “The kids are in capable hands,” he lowers his voice so that only she can hear, “So let’s go home so I can get my hands all over you.”

Derek pointedly ignores the comment he overhears as he holds Heidi in his arms and watches Lydia start to shake her head.

“What if he needs me?” Lydia asks as she looks at Scott, “He hasn’t been without me, yet, Scott-”

“Lydia,” Scott says firmly, tone still managing to come across as affectionate, “If little man needs you, they’ll call us, okay? They’re not gonna hurt him, honey. Come on, please, come home with me.”

Lydia sighs and nods finally, brows tightening together as she looks back at Stiles and Oliver and then to Scott again, “I’m being irrationally crazy, aren’t I? He’ll be fine… won’t he?”

“He will,” Scott confirms and smiles at her, brushing her cheek with his thumb before grabbing her hand, pulling her towards the door, “But I won’t be, not if I don’t get some alone time with you. We both deserve it, let’s go.”

“Yes, go,” Stiles encourages and takes Oliver’s wrist, making him wave at his mom and dad, “Tell them 'bye', say 'bye bye'.”

“He’s not gonna say anything, he’s a baby,” Lydia responds as she waves and turns to leave, her hand in Scott’s tightening as she huffs and fixes her purse on her shoulder, “I better not regret this,” she says and gives Scott a pointed look, “I better not.”

“You won’t, baby,” Scott removes his hand from hers and puts it on the small of her back instead, urging her out the front door as he looks back at Stiles and Derek, “If you guys need anything, literally anything at all, just call us,” he tells them, “Thanks again.”

“No problem, buddy,” Stiles says and bounces Oliver gently, turning once they’re out the door to sit down on the couch with an armful of baby, “I kinda feel bad for you, little guy. You’re in for one heck of a future.”

Derek moves to lock the door and sits beside Stiles with Heidi in his arms as he watches his mate, “She’s somewhat overbearing, but at least she cares.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees and props his feet up on the coffee table and lays Oliver’s back against his legs, lightly tickling his little tummy, “You got a good mommy and daddy, even if they are pains in the butt sometimes.” he looks to Heidi then, “Don’t tell them I said that, okay?”

Heidi giggles, but she manages to make a zipper motion over her mouth before leaning more against Derek.

Derek watches the exchange and stares at Stiles and Oliver somewhat longingly for a moment before concluding that this was a bad idea, indulging himself in something he can’t have, “I should start dinner,” he says and looks at Heidi, “Do you wanna help or do you wanna stay with Stiles?”

“I wanna help,” Heidi says excitedly and scurries off of Derek, dancing around the coffee table, “Come on, come on!”

“Hey,” Stiles says before Derek can get up and he reaches out, grabbing his mate’s shirt to pull him in for a quick kiss, “You need us to help too, or you got it?”

“I got it,” Derek responds, reaching out to run his hand through Stiles’s hair as he looks at the younger man, then leans down to kiss Oliver’s forehead before getting up and walking into the kitchen with Heidi, “Have you ever made mashed potatoes before?”

“Nope,” Heidi answers and reaches up for Derek’s hand, smiling back at Stiles before they disappear into the kitchen.

Stiles is still kind of slack jawed, especially after watching Derek be so tender with Oliver and he thinks he might actually understand what Lydia was getting at the other day, even though he didn’t get it at the time.

* * *

Stiles doesn’t really want to say Lydia was right about the whole no sleeping thing when it came to Oliver, but Lydia was right. After the third or fourth time getting up in the middle of the night, it was like his body just shut down on him and refused to wake up after that point.

Which is why he’s a little disoriented at first when he wakes up and it’s already morning, sunshine just a little too bright, so he lifts a hand up to cover his face as he yawns and sits up in bed.

His first instinct is to lean over and kiss Derek awake, but he stops almost at once when he actually looks at the alpha, half laying down and half propped up against the headboard with a sleeping baby curled in against his chest.

Swallowing tightly at the sight, he sighs to himself, because it’s not fair. He doesn’t know why it’s not fair just yet, but it’s just… it’s not. Big, hairy, sexy, alpha werewolves should not look so good holding a baby.

Stiles’s eyes move down and he notices the way Derek’s hand damn near covers the entirety of Oliver’s back and he shakes his head, stomach twisting longingly, “Nope, no, niet,” he whispers to himself and moves very carefully to get up out of the bed.

“I’m just-I’m gonna go wake up Heidi and I’m gonna go make breakfast, m’not gonna stay in here and spontaneously grow a womb. This shit is ridiculous.”

Derek blinks open his eyes as he hears Stiles talking to himself and he turns to look at his mate, “What’s ridiculous?” he asks, voice rough from sleep as he shifts his hand over Oliver’s back.

“Uh,” Stiles splutters a little bit and stops dead in his tracks when Derek wakes up, internally kicking himself for talking aloud when he should know better, “Um, the-the uh… early mornings,” he lies and grimaces almost at once, because he knows Derek’s going to pick up on it.

The alpha frowns at the lie and reaches out for Stiles, “Come here.”

“I need to go make breakfast,” Stiles responds and ignores the way his heart flutters all over the place when he moves closer to Derek.

“I make breakfast,” Derek says matter of factly and clears his throat, “Now come back to bed.”

“I could make breakfast for once,” Stiles argues weakly and crawls back onto the mattress, pointedly not looking at how content Oliver is to just be laying against his mate’s chest.

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls Stiles in close, “You’d burn the bacon,” he says knowingly, turning to press his lips to his mate’s ear, “And you **like** my bacon.”

“I do,” Stiles agrees and swallows tightly again, because now he’s all up close and personal with Derek. Derek, who has a baby on his chest and… this is exactly what he was just trying to get away from, babysitting was a horrible idea. He doesn’t want kids and that’s old news. Except, now he kind of does and he doesn’t really know what to do with that.

“Did you sleep okay?” Derek asks softly, his fingers moving to run through the soft baby hairs atop Oliver’s head as the werewolf smooths his other palm over Stiles’s shoulder.

“Um,” Stiles says and has to look away, because he knows Derek’s not perfect, but right now he kind of is and it’s aggravating, seeing him being so gentle with Oliver, “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for…” he gestures vaguely to the sweet bundle of baby on his mate’s chest, “That, I must’ve been out of it because I didn’t hear him.”

“He didn’t make much fuss after I took over,” Derek says and shrugs, “I just held him and he went to sleep…”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods and tries to keep his gaze on everything else in the room except for the alpha and the baby, “I should really just-I need to get up,” he insists, “Lydia has Heidi on this intense potty training schedule, so I should go wake her up and make sure she hasn’t peed the bed or something,” he rambles.

“Right,” Derek says, narrowing his brows as he watches his mate, not bothering to point out the obvious - that being the fact that he’s a **werewolf** and he would’ve noticed something like her wetting the bed as it was happening, if not moments before, and been able to prevent it. He’s not sure what’s wrong with Stiles, though he has an idea of what it might be, and it’s upsetting if it’s what he thinks it is, “You should.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says again and looks at Derek, stilling momentarily and he makes the mistake of looking down at Oliver. He frowns then, because he knows it’s not just typical _staring_ , he knows his gaze has taken a slight turn for longing, so he blinks to snap himself out of it before he scrambles from the bed.

Derek sighs and looks away from Stiles, his hand laying back over Oliver as he gently brushes the baby’s back to wake him up, the alpha slowly sitting up as he reaches out to the bag on the floor.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Sparklinski](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/)


	11. Morals and Ethics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek glances around Scott and Lydia’s house, suddenly realizing that maybe they should’ve let the two come and pick up their kids, instead of dropping them back off. He watches Stiles hand Oliver over to Lydia and Heidi still won’t remove herself from his leg, no matter what he tries to say to get her off, “You’ve got school in the morning, you can’t come back with us.”

“Please?” Heidi all but wails and clings tighter to Derek’s leg, “I’ll be good, I’ll help you mash potatoes again!”

Stiles snorts at Heidi and crosses his arms once Lydia takes Oliver, moving to crouch down next to her, “Hey, princess,” he tries to reason, “If you let go and be a good girl, maybe mommy and daddy will let you come back sometime, okay?”

He looks up at Derek then, “Right?”

Derek nods, “That’s right,” he says as he glances at Stiles and then back to Heidi, “But you have to act your age and be mature about coming back home - which means letting go of my leg.”

Heidi pouts, but she lets go of Derek and stands up, trying to fight the way her bottom lip quivers before she takes off towards her bedroom.

Derek frowns as he watches her leave and he looks at Lydia, “If you and McCall need another break some time, don’t hesitate to ask.” He says it, but he kind of doesn’t mean it, part of him doesn’t want to have something like kids in his home again, because of the way Stiles handled it, “We should get going.”

Lydia nods and leans over to kiss Stiles’s cheek, “Okay, I’ll probably drop by the office again this week to see you guys. Thanks for watching them.”

“No problem,” Stiles says, even though it kind of **is** a problem, because now he’s left with actually wanting children after the whole ordeal and it’s not like he can really have any… unless they adopt; which, while the idea is appealing, it wouldn’t really be the same. He waves at them and moves to Derek, taking the alpha’s hand before pulling him back out the front door.

Derek follows his mate close, holding Stiles’s hand firmly as they walk back to the car and he lets go, moving to the driver’s side as he unlocks it; he opens his door and climbs in. Though the ride to Scott and Lydia’s house had been loud, mostly because of Heidi being upset and making her brother cry because she was in distress, it’s looking like the ride back might be the **exact** opposite.

Stiles doesn’t say anything until they’re literally almost halfway home again, pulling his thumbnail from between his teeth to look at Derek, “It wasn’t a bad weekend,” he says and it’s probably an awkward thing to say, but he can’t say what he really wants to say, not right now.

“It wasn’t?” Derek asks, wetting his lips as he tries not to think about what the comment is supposed to mean for Stiles, “It was okay,” he says and shrugs weakly, frowning and flexing his jaw.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, but he doesn’t understand why Derek’s frowning the way he is, “It was actually kinda nice,” he says vaguely, “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever been pissed or spit up on so much in my entire life… but it was… I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Maybe,” Derek says dismissively, reaching up to scratch through his beard as he drives, “I guess. They were good kids.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says again, nodding more to himself than anything and he looks away then, because he can’t really gauge Derek on the whole kid thing one way or another - he’s being just as vague as Stiles is.

“Maybe when they’re a little older,” Derek responds finally because he’s sure he can’t handle them again until Oliver is at **least** four or five, then maybe he wouldn’t want kids so bad.

“Huh?” Stiles asks in confusion and looks at Derek, and now he’s the one frowning, “What do you mean ‘a little older’? What’s wrong with them now?”

Derek shrugs, “Oliver is young,” he tries to explain without having to actually say what he means, “And we’re… busy, we’re trying to catch a serial killer right now, our lives are still too overcomplicated to be dealing with another person’s children.”

Stiles is silent for a moment, but then he nods and narrows his brows, “Right, yeah…” he sighs, but at least he kind of has some sort of idea what the older man thinks of the whole having kids thing, “It makes sense.”

Derek glances at his mate, “I think we can both agree that the weekend wasn’t just difficult physically.”

“What are you even talking about?” Stiles asks and he hates playing naive, but he’s not particularly comfortable with the older man calling him out on his feelings, especially when he’s not even sure how he feels about everything.

“It wasn’t easy for me either,” Derek admits, “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“You’re not a mind reader and neither am I, Derek,” Stiles says and crosses his arms, slinking down into the seat, “I won’t act ignorant about what you’re saying, so long as you don’t presume to know what I’m feeling.”

“I **don’t** know what you’re feeling,” Derek agrees, “But I still know that it wasn’t easy.” He reaches out to take the boy’s hand, turning to look him square in the eyes, “We both have similar issues with children.”

“I doubt it,” Stiles says, because he hasn’t told Derek about his change of heart, the older man has no idea.

Derek frowns at the comment and sighs as he takes his hand back and looks at the road, closing his mouth and not responding to Stiles’s words.

“What’s with your attitude?” Stiles asks suddenly, “I don’t-I really don’t even know what’s going on conversation-wise with you right now. I say I doubt it, because it’s not likely we have the same views on children and you get all huffy with me.”

“I said we have similar _issues_ , not similar views,” Derek clarifies, “Which we **do.** It’s a sensitive subject for the both of us.”

“I don’t have issues with kids,” Stiles argues just to argue, because he doesn’t like the fact that Derek’s so confident of them being on the same page, “I-I-I don’t-can we just not do this right now?” he asks, because he doesn’t know where the conversation's going and that frightens him a little.

Derek rolls his eyes and tries to appear as passive as possible, hating how much it actually hurts to leave the conversation where it is. Part of him wants to say something already, but he’s afraid that if he offers Stiles an out, his partner might actually _take it_. He swallows tightly and presses his lips together as he bites the words back and turns into his driveway.

Stiles watches Derek closely and he feels… Anxious, for some reason, because he can tell his mate wants to say something, but he’s withholding because Stiles asked him to, “Just say it,” he blurts out, mindlessly unbuckling his seat belt as he continues to stare at the werewolf, “I don’t wanna argue with you, I don’t want conversation to be weird, or-or stilted, or even tense - so say it.”

“There’s nothing else to say,” Derek responds and climbs out of the car. He’s naturally self destructive, but if he says what he wants to, he’ll probably lose the only thing left in his life that actually has meaning. He shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.

“Derek,” Stiles sighs and gets out of the car as well, all but jogging to catch up with his mate and he reaches out to grab the older man by his forearm, “Please don’t be like this, not with me,” he shakes his head, “If you wanna say something, then just say it.”

Derek pulls his arm from Stiles and shakes his head, putting his hand out in warning before he turns to unlock the door, “Just leave it alone, Stiles.”

“No,” Stiles says stubbornly, “I just tried that with you, tried putting off a conversation we probably need to have and look where that got us.”

He doesn’t like that Derek’s being physically distant with him, so he reaches back out and touches the older man’s arm, “Will you just look at me? Look at me and say what you were gonna say.”

Derek opens the door and walks inside, pulling from Stiles again, “I don’t **have** anything to say, there’s-can you stop fucking pushing me?” he growls as he looks at his mate.

The growl doesn’t phase Stiles nearly as much as it should, so he just shakes his head resolutely, “You did that thing you do when you’re about to say something, but then you think better of it. It’s like, you take a small intake of breath and the muscles in your face move a little, but when you decide not to say it, you just sigh. So what were you gonna say? We shouldn’t even be arguing right now.”

The alpha tightens his hands into fists before reaching out and grabbing Stiles, pulling him inside and shutting the door as he crowds the younger man against the wall by it, taking Stiles’s face in both of his hands and kissing him.

Stiles is confused at first, but after the second or two it takes for his brain to catch up, he begins kissing back and reaches up to grip Derek’s hips, “You’re-” he pushes up a little on his tip toes, breathing heavily through his nose as he tries to deepen the kiss, “Trying to distract me.”

Derek drops his hands down, claws extending, ripping down the sides of his mate’s pants before he yanks them down and turns the boy around, leaning in to scent the back of Stiles’s neck as he growls violently, “Shut up, Stilinski,” his hands reaching down to himself as he keeps Stiles pressed against the wall, pushing his own pants down and lifting Stiles’s ass as he moves in close.

“D-Derek,” Stiles stammers out nervously and clutches mindlessly at the wall in front of him, unable to move and in all honesty, he should probably be a little more scared than he is, “Just tell me,” he persists still, heart racing wildly in his chest.

“I said ‘shut up’,” Derek responds as he pushes into Stiles without any real prep, his chest heaving as he turns his head and bites his mate between his shoulder blades, teeth sinking in as he uses his thumbs to hold the younger man’s cheeks apart.

Stiles cries out at first from how painful it is when Derek pushes in both without preparation and lube, but when he feels the teeth digging into his skin, he sobs a little louder and writhes between the wall and his mate, “Y-You can’t,” he heaves out, trying to get the werewolf off of him, but all he ends up doing is causing the alpha’s cock to go deeper inside of him, “You can’t just tell me w-what to do,” he grits out, reaching behind himself to push at his mate’s thighs, “Get off of me.”

Derek takes Stiles’s hand, his other turning the boy’s chin to look him in the eyes, “You’re **_mine_** , Stiles,” he says as he stares at his mate, “Don’t fight me.”

“I am yours,” Stiles agrees, eyes welling up with tears as he struggles against Derek, “But consent is still a thing and you’re forcing yourself on me right now, a-all because you don’t wanna fucking talk to me, you emotionally stunted asshole.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Derek responds as he nuzzles against his boy’s neck, “You’re mine, you gave me your consent when I knotted you.” His hand drops back down to Stiles’s waist, “The only reason why you’re fighting me right now is because I won’t tell you what I was gonna say, stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m being stubborn?” Stiles asks incredulously, “I didn’t give you consent to take me whenever you please, Derek, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he tries to rear back, but all he accomplishes is the same as before, urging his mate’s length deeper, “And you can’t-you can’t just fucking take me dry like this, it hurts. Stop it, if you’re not gonna tell me what you were gonna say, then just stop it and get the fuck off of me.”

Derek tightens his jaws as he pushes Stiles away, pulling back up his pants as he tries to breathe calmly and he shakes his head and moves from his partner, “Leave then,” he says as he watches the younger man, “That’s what you’re wanting, so leave. The door’s beside you,” he turns back and walks down the hall to the bedroom.

Stiles goes to pull his pants up only to realize that he can’t, they’re literally in shreds, hanging off of him. He shakes his head in confusion at his mate’s words and they make him feel nauseated almost at once. Receiving the cold shoulder from Derek doesn’t help, either, so he follows the older man numbly.

He doesn’t bother saying anything until he actually has a decent pair of pants on and then he moves to the door frame, eyes still full of unshed tears, “What did…” he takes in a deep breath, because his voice won’t stop cracking, “What did you mean when you said that’s what I’m wanting? I don’t understand.”

“You don’t want me,” Derek responds as he walks around the side of the bed, keeping his back to Stiles as he sits down, “I know you want out, so just go.”

Stiles shakes his head again, mouth hanging open as he narrows his brows, looking down for a moment as his tears finally fall, but he wipes them away instantly, “Are you fucking stupid?” he asks, because he can’t, for the life of him, figure out what he could’ve done to make the werewolf think that he didn’t want him, “All I want is **you**. What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“You’re not happy, you’re not satisfied,” Derek tries to explain as he closes his eyes, “I can’t give you what you want.” He opens his eyes then and stands up, turning to look at Stiles as resolutely as possible, “You’re **not** mine.”

“I-It’s not something you can just-you can’t fucking revoke what we have, Derek,” Stiles tries to reason with the older man, because he doesn’t understand what’s happening, not in the slightest, “I am happy, I am satisfied… I dunno why you’re suddenly pushing me away.”

“I don’t regret picking you as my mate,” Derek says as he stares at the younger man, “That was my choice, not yours. You’re not… you’re not mine. I’m yours, but you’ll never actually be mine, no matter how many times I knot you. You can still leave, and you should.”

“Why can I never actually be yours?” Stiles asks and he tries to fight the urge to heave, moving on numb legs to get closer to Derek, “What did I do, w-why don’t you-why don’t you wanna be with me anymore? I don’t know what I did wrong, Derek. Just… tell me, tell me what I did and I’ll fix it.”

“I want to be with you,” Derek says at once, taking a few steps back and shaking his head in warning, “That hasn’t changed, it never will. You’re **my** mate. But it only goes the one way, Stiles. You don’t want me, you’re not mine, I’m not **your** mate,” he raises his voice, “You don’t want me.”

Stiles’s eyes widen and he covers his mouth to stifle a small sob, shaking his head at the alpha, “I do-I do want you,” he argues, “And I dunno why you’re punishing me, I-I don’t even know what I did, but I’ll go,” he sniffles, “If you don’t want me here then I’ll go.”

“I’ve already told you to **leave** once,” Derek says, voice still loud as he shoves the bed out of the way and moves to Stiles, pushing him out into the hall and pointing at the door, “ **Go**. It’s what you want, Stiles, stop fucking looking for another reason, and just go already.”

“I don’t wanna go!” Stiles yells then, body trembling violently as he sobs, tears streaking his cheeks as he shakes his head, “It’s not what I want, it’s not!” he cries, “I want you, I wanna be with you, Derek, please stop trying to push me away.”

Derek lets out a frustrated huff of breath and works his jaw as he looks at the younger man, “I’m done talking about this,” he says as he crosses his arms, “No matter what I say, you’re gonna keep pretending like nothing’s changed, and telling me that I don’t know you and how you feel - but I do.”

“Evidently you don’t,” Stiles shakes his head and reaches up to wipe his face, “And I’m not just saying it to argue with you, I’m saying it because you seem to think that I don’t want you and you couldn’t be further from the truth if you tried. I wasn’t lying when I told you that I loved you more than anyone else I’ve ever fucking loved in my life, I gave myself to you, saw a future with you and now you’re just… you’re pushing me away and I don’t even know _why_.”

“There’s a difference between believing it and **meaning** it,” Derek says and stands still, keeping his hands to himself even though he wants to touch Stiles and comfort him, “You don’t want me, you think you do, but you don’t. You don’t love me, you just think you do. The future you see isn’t something that’ll ever happen because it’s not possible, not with me. I can’t give you that, and you know I can’t.”

“How do you even know what kind of future I see for us when you’ve never even asked me what it is?” Stiles asks and part of him wants to die, because getting shot and stabbed never hurt this bad, “Have I not… have I not shown you how much I love you? Is that it? Do I not express it enough?”

“Stiles,” Derek uncrosses his arms as he tries to let his shoulders relax somewhat, “Why do you always think that **you’re** the problem?” he asks rhetorically, “You’re not the problem. In a hundred years I’ll still feel the same way about you, I’ll still want you. No matter what age, weight, gender you are. Whatever hair color you have, my feelings won’t change.

"And I couldn’t care less if you expressed it, or didn’t, it doesn’t make a difference to me, that doesn’t matter. I can’t explain it to you, because you won’t hear it, you’ll keep telling me that I’m wrong, but I’m not. I know what you want from me, and I can’t give it to you.”

“You know what I want?” Stiles asks softly then, and shrugs his shoulders in defeat, “Fine, then tell me what I want, if you’re so sure.”

Derek tightens his jaw again, “When you woke up Saturday morning and I was sleeping beside you, with Oliver…” he looks down between them, “I’m not an idiot, Stiles, I know why you acted the way you did.”

“Then fucking tell me,” Stiles blurts out, a few stages passed hurt at this point and verging on angry, “Tell me!”

“You want that,” Derek says, voice soft and defeated as he looks at the younger man, “You want children, that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, you’re damn right I do,” Stiles says matter-of-factly and narrows his brows at Derek, “So, sarcastic responses withheld, please fucking enlighten me as to why I can’t have that with **you** … do you not want children?”

“You can’t have them with me because you want to _have them_ with me,” Derek says knowingly, raising his brows as he swallows, “I know how you felt this weekend because I felt the same way the moment I saw you with Oliver in the hospital.”

“So… what?” Stiles flails a little, “You-You’re punishing me for fantasizing about actually having a child with you? A child with both of our DNA? I know it’s not possible, Derek, I’m not… I’m not that much of an idiot, but there are… there are other options. So why are you trying to do this to us, huh?”

Derek frowns in confusion, “So that you could have a mate that you wouldn’t have to deal with ‘other options’ with - there aren’t ‘other options’, Stiles. There’s the fact that we’re both male, and it ends there - that’s it.”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head, “That’s not it, you fucking moron. There’s… adoption, and surrogates,” he explains, “You told me it didn’t bother you that I’m a guy, you assured me that it wasn’t an issue… so stop acting like it is.”

“It’s not an issue for me, it’s an issue for **you** ,” Derek responds, “You’re the one asking me about how my ‘wolf’ feels about knotting a male, and how it’s meant for breeding purposes.” He reaches out, taking Stiles’s face in his hands and staring at him, “It’s not an issue for me, what you are - male, human - it makes no difference to me, so stop acting like it does.”

“So, what this really is then, is you faulting me and punishing me for wanting something I can’t have,” Stiles grits out, eyes watering anew as he stares up at Derek, “You’re so dead set and insistent about knowing what it is I want, even though _you’re wrong_.”

He pulls away from the werewolf then, “But I’m gonna go, anyway. And when you actually wanna be with me, without presuming to know every single little thing I want, then come to me… and I’ll take you back in a fucking heartbeat. Until then, though, just know that I fucking love you, okay?

"And I’m not delusional, there is no difference between me saying it and meaning it, it’s all one in the same. I love you, I love you and it’s probably gonna kill me to be away from you. I also want a fucking family with you and I don’t-I don’t care what means we have to use, even if it is adoption - it’s still something I want. I know you’re listening to my heart right now, I’m telling you the truth, am I not?”

“I’m not faulting you or punishing you for wanting that,” Derek says as he steps away from Stiles, “I’m tired of this constant back and forth with you of you assuming that I’m judging you, and that I apparently don’t know anything about you, and how I’m the one that’s punishing you - I think you’ve said that at least three times now. If that’s what you want to believe, then believe it, I’m tired of trying to correct you, to get into that thick fucking skull of yours that I wouldn’t ‘punish’ you for wanting to have a family with me.”

“You’re pushing me away, telling me what I want and not actually taking what I **do** want into consideration,” Stiles says, “If that’s not some kind of punishment, then I dunno what is.

"I love you and I wanna be with you, marry you some day and have kids, eventually grow old together, even though I’ll be the only one who even really looks it. All of that, Derek, is what I want, I just wanna make sure you understand that before you give me that one final shove, before you actually push me out.”

Derek’s more than sure that he’s reached his yearly limit for emotional investments and expressiveness, he’s too exhausted with arguing at this point to even say anything back. Half of him doesn’t even understand what this argument means for them, and the other half doesn’t want to care because he thinks it’s pointless to begin with.

“Okay,” he says as he fixes the bed, “I can’t stop you from leaving, so do it, if that’s what you want just fucking do it already and get it over with,” he sits on the edge of the mattress to take off his shoes as he glances at Stiles, “Do what you want.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t wanna leave, Derek?” Stiles asks, “You’re the one who told me to go, you’re the one trying to end this… so what the fuck do you want, huh?”

“I don’t want anything,” Derek says dismissively, not unlike he had when they first met, “I never want for anything, I never expect anything.” He stands up, takes off his shirt and moves to his dresser to grab a pair of pajama pants.

“Yeah, I get that,” Stiles says and he’s at wits end, he doesn’t really know what to do, “But you started this, you told me to go. So I’m asking you now… what do you want?”

Derek shakes his head, “I’m not making that choice for you,” he says as he changes out of his pants, “That’s not **mine** to make.”

“I told you what I wanted, I’m not asking you to make a fucking choice for me,” Stiles raises his voice, damn near ready to pull his hair out, “I’m asking you what you want, whether or not you still want me here, whether or not you still want me to go.”

“Stay, go, do what you want,” Derek says again and stops at the doorway, “If I tell you what I want, you’ll decide on that. I’m your mate, so how I feel doesn’t change, yours does. Since you have a choice, fucking make one already.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually felt so unwanted in my whole goddamn life, and that’s saying something considering I toughed it out with Heather for ten years.”

Stiles backs away from their bedroom door some, “So, thanks for that,” he says, then moves to the guest room, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Derek sighs and walks out of his bedroom, down the hall and into the living room, picking up his keys from where he dropped them at the door and he walks out of the house, locking up and walking to his car. He's more than aware of the fact that he’s wearing only his pajama pants, but he doesn’t care. He starts the car and pulls out of his parking spot, driving away from the house as fast as he can.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Sparklinski](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/)


	12. Ride It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _
> 
> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)

When Derek leaves the house, he doesn’t have an intended time frame in mind, he just knows that he needs to make distance between him and Stiles. He’s aware of just **how** self destructive the act is, leaving his mate in hopes that Stiles will finally give up on him altogether and move on with someone that can give him what he wants, but it’s the only thing Derek can think of to do.

If he doesn’t try now, then he might not have the strength to do it later on, when it gets worse. It’s better for the both of them to do it now, instead of slowly watching the person that he loves realize how much time he’s wasting on someone like Derek. Stiles has been through that once already, the alpha doesn’t want to do it to him again. At least at this age, his mate still has the chance to find someone else, move on and have the family that he wants with someone that can provide everything he needs to do it.

That’s what his partner deserves, not some broken up, beaten down omega alpha that has nothing to offer; someone that expects things of Stiles that the boy doesn’t want to give or do. After what had almost happened between them, as much as it pains Derek to think of it in such a way, to Stiles it was attempted rape. The idea alone sickens him, has made him realize just how much Stiles actually **isn’t** his, not in the way Derek is.

He’s not aware of how much time passes once he leaves, he just knows that at some point the full moon happens, and he stays in his alpha form after that. He abandons his Camaro on the side of the road and escapes, taking into the forest and trying not to think much beyond that point. He stays away as long as he can endure.

After the first couple weeks, he can already feel the affect the form has on him, taking over and dulling the pain, letting him forget about everything for some time. That part is over just as quick though, and he can recognize the pull taking its toll on him, telling him that he has to go back to his mate.

It’s just a primal feeling, a hope, that he’ll return and Stiles will actually be there waiting. But the realist inside of him tells him that his mate is only **his** mate, and it doesn’t go both ways. Humans stray, humans give up, they leave, they get over - hopefully Stiles has done the same.

Hopefully Derek never hears his voice again, or smells his scent, or touches him, because it’s already painful enough now, the alpha won’t be able to do this again. Mating Stiles was a mistake, he knew it when he was doing it, he knew he’d regret it. He’s heard enough stories from when he was younger about werewolves mating humans and then being left behind like some pet without an owner, because that’s how it is. It’s always one-sided. The humans that **do** stay probably just do it out of pity.

He thought he’d lost everything when his family was burned alive, and then again when Laura was murdered, and then the final time when he’d had to kill his own uncle. This is worse, he’s sure of it. He had a job, he had a mate, and now he won’t have either of them. As much as he should probably stay in the forest he’s practically taken over for some indiscernible amount of time now, he can only stay away for so long.

* * *

A part of Stiles, the part of him that insists he stays, that part of him consistently holds out hope that Derek will eventually come back. He needs him to, because it literally feels like he’s missing this huge fucking chunk of himself, leaving him numb and with no sense of direction.

The first week passes and he almost catches the kitchen on fire by accident, slinging grease everywhere in an attempt to make bacon. Derek always makes their breakfast, he’s no good at it, and after the fire alarm starts going off - after he gets everything under control - he just slumps to the floor in front of the stove and cries.

The second week isn’t any better than the first, because he’s the one who has to try and cover for Derek at work, but it’s difficult, because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to tell Deaton. He doesn’t know where his mate is, doesn’t even know if he’s okay.

Work, in itself, is probably the only silver lining in the whole situation, because it’s something he can busy himself with, even if working alone feels wrong. What feels even worse, is when another body turns up and he doesn’t have his partner with him. The workload is doubled and, on a good day, he doesn’t even get back home until after it’s already dark.

It goes on like that for a while, too. Whereas he’d been so dependent on Derek before, now he just relies on the job, even if it’s only to keep his mind off of his mate. He’d sit down and pour his heart out to Scott and Lydia, but it feels too personal, so he just keeps things to himself. It’s probably best he does, anyway, because if he starts talking about the older man, he knows he’ll start crying. And if he starts crying, he’s not sure if he’d even be able to stop.

Stiles can’t even bring himself to sleep in _their_ bed and usually either falls asleep on the couch, or in the guest room. He knows he wouldn’t be able to handle the smell, to be able to turn his face into their pillows and smell Derek still lingering there - it’d be torture and things are bad enough as is.

By the time the second body turns up - _fifth_ , if you want to get technical - he finds a note at the crime scene specifically for him. All it says is ‘I know you’re alone’ and, after that, he thinks that maybe he has a death wish without Derek around, because he stops locking the doors. He even starts opening the windows before he goes to sleep, part of him hoping something will sneak in and end it while he’s out, but he’s not that fortunate, because the pain doesn’t end.

It’s not like he couldn’t just up and leave, too. Stiles knows he could, but he doesn’t want to, he wants to be right here if and when the werewolf comes back, wants to prove to Derek that he was wrong, wants to show the older man just how fucking much he **does** love him. So he learns to deal with the ache and stands beside his decision to stick around, ignorantly hopeful that maybe one day he’ll actually come home from work and find Derek sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

* * *

Derek returns some time after dark, he’s not sure what day it is, but he makes it on foot, slinking across roads that don’t have heavy traffic and, as much as he’d told himself that if he found out Stiles was there he’d leave, he doesn’t follow through well. It’s like the moment he hears his mate’s heart beats, he _aches_ , which is something he’s already feeling, but apparently not as strongly as possible.

He tries to turn away and leave, but he’s practically drawn in by the sound, taking the side door to the garage and into the kitchen, shaking off his black coat of fur as he moves into the living room and stops when he sees his mate on the couch.

Stiles hears a noise and sees a black blur in his periphery, so he tilts his head up and he’s pretty sure his heart almost seizes on him completely when he looks at Derek. His eyes well up of their own accord and he fights to swallow down the lump in his throat as he sits up a little more, bottom lip quivering even though this is exactly what he’s been hoping for.

Mindlessly, he pushes up off of the couch and steps closer to the alpha, eyes raking over the dirty, hulking form before reaching out to fist his hands in the fur. The sobs aren’t particularly violent, but they cause him to shake anyway, and he clings to the werewolf as he shakes his head, “Don’t you ever do that again,” he pleads, “Never. Don’t leave me like that.”

Derek stands still, his own heart racing as he listens to Stiles and he’s already starting to feel cornered again, tempted to leave already. He hadn’t been anticipating the younger man to be here at all, and now he’s not sure how he’s supposed to react.

He reaches up, taking Stiles’s hands away from his fur and the alpha moves a short step back as he shakes his head, “ ** _No, Stiles_**.”

Stiles had been pretty sure that nothing could’ve made the entire situation worse, but being rejected by the alpha seems to do the job and he shakes his head in confusion, “No?” his voice cracks and he feels like he’s on the verge of having a panic attack, “T-Then-” his chest starts heaving and he frowns, “Then why did you even come back, huh? Just to hurt me all over again?”

“ _ **I didn’t want you to be here at all**_ ,” Derek responds, narrowing his eyes as he looks over Stiles, “ _ **I left so you would**_.”

“Well, surprise,” Stiles says and laughs suddenly, the sound almost manic, “I didn’t.” He shrugs and frowns again, looking away from Derek, “You should’ve known I was home, you can hear me… you didn’t have to-you didn’t have to come back.”

Derek shifts finally, forcing himself to let go of the alpha form as he stands with his hands at his sides, “That’s where we’re different. I **did** have to come back,” he says as he stares at his mate, “It’s not easy staying away from you.”

“And you think it was easy for me?” Stiles asks incredulously, sniffling as he wipes his eyes, “Being without you, not knowing where you were, if you were okay or if you’d ever even come back to me? It’s worse than being stabbed, or shot… I’ve been miserable, Derek.”

Derek narrows his brows, looking at the dark shadows under Stiles’s eyes and the state of the living room tells him that the younger man has been all but living in it, “Why didn’t you just leave and get over it after the first week?”

“Because I didn’t want to, I couldn’t,” Stiles explains hopelessly, “I kept telling myself that you’d come back, that you’d fucking return to me and we could-we could fix this, because I-I-” he presses his lips together firmly and forces out a shaky breath through his nose, “I love you,” he says softly, “And I can’t live without you, I can’t do it.”

Derek clearly didn’t stay away long enough, maybe a year or two would’ve worked, even though he’s not sure he would’ve been able to go much longer than he did, however long it was.

The alpha closes his hands into fists as he clenches his jaw for a moment, “Why not?”

“Because contrary to what you think, I’m just as much yours as you are mine,” Stiles tells him, “I fell for you in such-such a short amount of time and I fell hard.

"You’re… God, you’re such a pain in my ass sometimes, with all of your self-deprecation and stubbornness. I know you, I know what you’ve been through and I-I may not be able to empathize, but I love you… even if you think I don’t, even if you don’t think you deserve it. It’s not something I can just go back on, I wouldn’t even if I could. Derek, you’re my mate and I’m-I know I’m not a fucking werewolf, but it still means something to me.”

“It means something to me, too,” Derek responds, looking at his mate and it hurts to say the next part but he does it anyways, “It means that you have a choice. You want me when you want me, and when you don’t, you don’t.”

“That makes no sense to me,” Stiles shakes his head and he can’t handle this, it feels like he’s dying all over again, “I do want you, I’m always going to want **you**.”

Derek crosses his arms over his chest and clarifies the best he can without trying to sound like the victim - he isn’t, he’s aware now that he was wrong to even try doing what he did, but it’s still different for him; for his kind, “You didn’t. I think you made it plainly clear that you didn’t before - that when I won’t tell you things, or answer your questions, then you don’t want me at all.”

Stiles frowns when he realizes what Derek’s talking about, “We were arguing,” he explains, “Just because I didn’t want to have sex while we were arguing doesn’t mean I don’t want you, dumb ass. Is that-has that been the issue this whole time?” he asks, “You think I don’t want you?”

He shakes his head and reaches down to pull his shirt off, hip bones protruding more than normal because he hasn’t been eating hardly at all, “Take me, then. Have your way with me, if that’s what you want, if it’ll make you finally understand that I want you.”

Derek growls in more annoyance than anything else as he looks at Stiles and he turns away, walking down the hall to his bedroom, “No.”

It’s different, while that is somewhat what this is about, it’s different when Stiles is trying to convince him otherwise, letting something happen naturally is different. He wants a mate, not a willing subject when the time is ‘just right’.

“No?” Stiles repeats and throws his shirt down before following Derek into their bedroom, “If I’m not willing, then I don’t want you, but if I tell you to take me, then you don’t want it?”

The older man is large, he knows this, but he still grabs the werewolf’s arm and turns him around to look into his eyes before shoving him back against the bed, moving at once to straddle him, “I wish I had the fucking power to hold you down,” he breathes, hands firmly on Derek’s chest.

“You don’t need to,” Derek says as he watches his mate, one hand moving to touch Stiles’s leg as he stays still, “I always want you, willing or not, **I am _yours_**. I didn’t walk away because I don’t want you, I walked away because your blind assumption is wrong.”

“It’s not wrong,” Stiles says and reaches down, wrapping his fingers around Derek’s length to get him hard, “You’re throwing a pissy fit, assuming that I don’t want you at all just because I didn’t want to have sex the one time. I get that it’s probably different for you, for werewolves in general, but when a human generally doesn’t want to have sex, they don’t. It doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

“That’s what it means for me,” Derek responds, his length hardening already, even though he doesn’t think they should, he **does** still want to, “If you don’t want my seed, you don’t want me.”

“If that’s the case, then I’m sorry, okay?” Stiles says, frowning as he lets go of the girth to push his pants off, adjusting his legs accordingly before snagging the lube out of the nightstand.

He pops the cap and pours some onto his fingers, then reaches back behind himself, wetting his hole before rubbing the rest against the werewolf’s cock. Stiles doesn’t even prep himself, he just grabs Derek’s base firmly and lowers himself onto it, grunting but staring his mate in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for offending you, it’s not like you gave me some kind of werewolf guide book to abide by. I made a mistake, so I’m telling you right now… anytime you want me, regardless of where we are or what we’re doing, even if we’re arguing, I want you to take me,” he rolls his hips and gasps, cheeks heating, “I want you to take me,” he repeats.

Derek watches Stiles’s face as he tries to listen to what his mate’s saying, his hands resting patiently on the younger man’s waist, feet planted firmly on the floor.

He doesn’t respond, anything he says will just sound like he’s trying to start another fight. After being denied once, he already knows there’s a part of his pride that’s far too wounded to put himself out there again, Stiles wouldn’t want him, even though he says it now, his mind set would change the moment he doesn’t want to give consent.

Stiles frowns when Derek doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t pull back or stop. He braces himself more firmly atop the older man and continues to move, staring intently at his mate as he rides him, whimpering quietly every time he lowers himself back down.

The alpha lays back on the bed, breathing calmly as he listens to the soft sounds Stiles makes, one hand moving to run along the boy’s leg, the other moving tentatively to wrap around Stiles’s cock, carefully tugging the length.

It’s been entirely too long, Stiles can tell by the way he feels his balls draw up when Derek touches him. In retrospect, maybe he should’ve touched himself while the alpha was gone, maybe he wouldn’t be so close already. The idea of it, though, it kind of makes him nauseous, because heartache and arousal don’t really go well together.

Despite his better judgement, he continues to ride it out, furrowing his brows and looking down at the large hand around him as he fucks himself on Derek’s cock. His eyes water again and when he comes, he sobs, his body bowing down against his mate.

“I’m sorry,” he cries, subtly moving his hips still, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Derek frowns as he watches Stiles and he sits back up, his hand moving back to the younger man’s waist as he stops Stiles’s movements and shakes his head, “Stiles..?”

Stiles grimaces as he tries to fight back a particularly violent sob, hands unsurely moving to Derek’s shoulders before he wraps his arms around his mate’s neck entirely, burying his face in the crook of the werewolf’s neck.

“I fucked everything up,” he sniffles, “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry,” he repeats again.

Derek sits still, his hands not moving from where they’re at and he feels the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up, his chest tightening painfully as he listens to Stiles and he doesn’t respond still. He’s not sure what he’d say even if he wanted to, it’s neither of their faults, really, or both, but he doubts Stiles would listen to him even if he tried to argue it. It’s just a communication barrier they’ll have to deal with if this continues.

Stiles pulls back some and blinks the rest of the tears from his eyes, looking over Derek’s face dejectedly before he kisses the older man chastely, “I’m sorry,” he says again against the swell of the werewolf’s mouth, touching the older man’s neck tenderly before he starts to pull off. He isn’t sure what to do, he wants to stay, even though he doesn’t really think he’s wanted, regardless of what Derek says.

Derek holds Stiles firmly, keeping him there and staring at him before reaching up to wipe the tears from the younger man’s cheeks and then he leans in to kiss Stiles. He knows he’s being distant, probably somewhat cold, but anything more than that just feels exhausting right now.

Stiles kisses back, but he doesn’t push for more, doesn’t try to deepen it or lean in more than necessary. He’ll take what Derek gives him and he’ll… he’ll be content with it, because it’s better than nothing.

The alpha lifts Stiles off of him and sets him on the bed beside him before shifting closer to the edge of the bed, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

Stiles watches the older man and furrows his brows, drawing his knees up to his chest before wrapping his arms around them, “For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yes I do,” Derek says, “You’re apologizing, but I’m the one that nearly raped you - I practically did.”

“It’s not-it wasn’t rape,” Stiles argues weakly, head hurting from emotional whiplash, “I-It’s… it was expected of me, yeah? I mean, maybe if I just-if I would’ve let you, maybe things wouldn’t be like this right now.”

“It **was** rape, for your kind it is,” Derek responds, “I knew you weren’t mine and I still tried to take you. You’re not my mate, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Please don’t,” Stiles shakes his head as his chest begins heaving again and he pushes up off of the bed, putting his pants back on, “Don’t do this again, I can’t handle it. I’ll just, I’ll go in the other room or something, leave you alone, just-goddammit, Derek, stop saying I’m not yours.”

Derek reaches out to take Stiles’s hand, pulling him in even though he doesn’t have the right to and he wraps his arms around the younger man’s waist, pressing his forehead to Stiles’s stomach as he closes his eyes, “Don’t go.”

Stiles stills completely for a moment and just looks down at Derek, trying like Hell to get himself to calm down, because he knows that if he doesn’t, he’s liable to either have a panic attack or pass out. The last month alone had been emotionally traumatizing enough, he wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t handle it.

With a numb, tremulous hand, he reaches up and cards his fingers through the older man’s hair, “I won’t.”

Derek all but sighs at the touch of the boy’s hand and then he forces himself to pull back, standing up and avoiding Stiles’s eyes, “You can stay in the other room if you want, I’m sorry,” he says as he moves to the dresser to grab a change of clothes.

“Derek,” Stiles says as calmly as possible, “You just asked me not to go a-and I said I wouldn’t, I don’t want to, I don’t wanna be away from you… but I’m-I’m getting some seriously mixed signals from you, I dunno what you really want me to do.”

Derek doesn’t bother explaining that Stiles’s confusion probably has nothing on his own - that it’s difficult to remind himself that his mate doesn’t always want him like he always wants Stiles, he’s sure there’s something wrong with feeling like Stiles **should** want him all of the time and he’s trying to get to the point where he doesn’t take that personal, but it feels awful.

“I don’t mean to be confusing,” he says as he leaves the bedroom.

“Then try not to be?” Stiles offers and follows the older man, “And maybe just tell me what you want?”

“I’m not doing this again, Stiles,” Derek responds as he walks into the bathroom, into the tub, and turns on the water, “The last fight we had went this way, I’m not doing it again.”

“Right,” Stiles says numbly, backing away from the bathroom door, “Forgot, you don’t want for anything,” he mumbles to himself and scratches the side of his neck before going to the guest room.

This isn’t how everything is supposed to go. Derek was supposed to come back, they were supposed to kiss and make up, things were supposed to be fine and now… now it almost feels like the gaping hole the older man left in him by leaving is being torn wider.

Derek sighs when Stiles leaves and reacts the **exact** way he was expecting the boy to, he’s not surprised, he anticipated it the moment he saw the conversation going that way. He hates that it makes him feel like he shouldn’t have come back at all. Obviously Stiles had been expecting things to be ‘all better’, and he was probably regretting Derek coming back as well.

The alpha considers leaving again, but he’s too tired, maybe in the morning he can clean up and move out completely, and he won’t have to come back again.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	13. Stay With It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _
> 
> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)

Though Derek had initially planned to pack up and be out of the house in the morning, he decides to try and talk to Stiles again instead. It doesn’t help that he’s surrounded by the boy’s scent and spends the entire night practically in agony over it, smelling Stiles on him and hearing his mate’s breathing and heartbeats in the other room. Needless to say, he doesn’t sleep well, if at all, really.

He gets up the next morning around the time he knows Stiles would normally start stirring, walking into the guest room and sitting on the edge of the bed, tentatively reaching out to gently shake Stiles’s shoulder to wake him.

“Hmm?” Stiles hums and rubs his face against the pillow, barely cracking one eye open to squint up at Derek, “Whazzit?” he slurs, licking his lips as he yawns and tries to sit up in the bed.

The alpha smiles sadly as he watches Stiles, pulling his hand back as he finally looks away, “We need to talk.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees sleepily and props his back against the headboard, scrubbing a hand over his face, “Yeah, we do.”

“I do…” Derek pauses and swallows as he looks at Stiles, “Want things.”

That wakes Stiles up a little more and he nods, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his mate, “What kinds of things?” he asks curiously.

“Before I met you,” the older man starts tentatively, “I just wanted my family - the way it was before the fire. But that’s an unrealistic desire, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I knew that before, obviously, I’m not an idiot. But I held onto it because it was the only thing I had. I don’t want that anymore, I haven’t for a while now.”

Stiles swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, pulling the comforter up to his waist some as he watches Derek, “What do you want now?” he asks, unsure if he even wants to know the answer.

“You’re my mate,” Derek says, raising his brows because it should be painfully obvious, “I want you, that’s why I chose you. But, I…” he shakes his head, “It’s more than that, too.”

“Okay,” Stiles says tentatively and wets his lips, reaching up to card his fingers through his hair quickly, “What else?”

Derek looks into Stiles’s eyes, not as willing to respond as much as he thought he’d be. He feels like saying it aloud might actually ruin the idea completely, like if he says it than it’ll have a lesser chance of ever happening than it would if he just kept his mouth shut.

He frowns as he shakes his head again, shifting closer to Stiles, “Just you, just… _more_ ,” he says nervously.

Stiles isn’t really sure he understands what Derek’s saying, so he narrows his brows and shifts closer to the werewolf as well, wanting more than anything to touch the older man, but he doesn’t want to be rejected so the fear keeps him back.

“You’ve got me, I’m yours,” he says, hoping maybe that this time the alpha will believe it, “I’ll always be yours, I-I… I don’t understand.”

Derek moves suddenly to sit by Stiles’s side, facing him as he leans in close, reaching up to pull the blanket away, “When I knotted you,” he says, voice breaking but he ignores it and keeps his eyes on Stiles before dropping them down as he reaches his hand out and presses it to the younger man’s stomach, “I wanted there to be more to it than just mating you.”

Stiles’s bottom lip quivers some, because he’s suddenly understanding what Derek means and he lifts a hand to touch his mate’s, “Yeah,” he says sadly, looking down at their hands before meeting the werewolf’s eyes, “Me too,” he admits, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Derek asks in confusion, trying to fight the tears back from his eyes.

“For not being able to give that to you, for not being able to bear a child, to give you babies or-or pups, whatever you call them,” Stiles explains and it’s entirely too early to cry, not to mention he’s still exhausted from last night, but his eyes well with tears anyway.

Derek leans in and kisses Stiles, his free hand cupping the younger man’s cheek as the other smooths over Stiles’s stomach around his waist and the alpha pulls him in close, “Don’t apologize for that, Stiles.”

Stiles drops his forehead to Derek’s shoulder and rests his palms on the older man’s chest, nodding as he blinks the tears away, “I wanted to,” he explains softly, “I still want to, even though I know it’s not… it’s not even in the realm of possibility and I kinda hate myself for it.”

The alpha chuckles weakly and shakes his head, “Don’t. I’m just as much at fault,” he responds somewhat bitterly, tilting his head to kiss Stiles’s shoulder, “It wasn’t something I thought I wanted so much, until…” he runs his hands up the younger man’s body, “It’s a difficult thing not to think of on occasion, as a werewolf, but I never thought about it **seriously** before.”

“I didn’t want kids,” Stiles says and looks up at Derek, “You know I didn’t, but I think for me, it kinda changed the first time I watched you with Heidi…” he admits, “I didn’t want kids with Heather, but I want them with you.”

Derek looks back at Stiles, his large hand brushing the boy’s neck, “It figures, doesn’t it?” he asks rhetorically, “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t want something that I can’t have. I can’t give **you** children, either.”

“You’ve got the right equipment, Derek,” Stiles tells him, “A dick, werewolf jizz. I’m the one who doesn’t have the corresponding parts, I-I’m the-It’s me… I can’t give you a family.”

“It’s not any more you than it is me, Stiles,” Derek responds, “We’re both men, and we both want them, it’s… it isn’t your fault,” he reaches back down, touching Stiles’s stomach again, “But that doesn’t mean we should stop _trying_ ,” he says softly, looking at the younger man. As long as Stiles is consenting, he’s more than willing to try.

Stiles curls his fingers around the hand on his stomach and nods, “Werewolves exist,” he says and snorts, “Out of all things, male pregnancy shouldn’t be so far fetched.”

“It’s probably not,” Derek says as he watches his mate, “There are mages, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s found a loophole.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Stiles chuckles dryly, “You know how I get when I get something stuck in my head, I don’t really give up 'til I get what I want.”

Derek narrows his eyes and shakes his head, “I know you don’t, but you probably would’ve suspected as much regardless if I’d told you, you’re sleeping with a werewolf.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums and moves, shifting up onto his knees to be more eye to eye with his mate, hands resting on Derek’s shoulders, “I guess, maybe it’s something we could look more into when we… when we decide we’re ready?”

“If it’s what you want,” Derek says thoughtfully, “Like you said, there are other options.”

“It is what I want,” Stiles nods and moves a little closer, leaning in to kiss Derek chastely, “Is it what you want?”

“I feel selfish wanting more than just you,” the alpha admits, wrapping his arms around Stiles, “It’s bad enough I expect someone like you to take me, wanting anything more than that seems like too much.”

“It’s not too much,” Stiles shakes his head and good **God** it feels nice to have the older man’s arms around him, “It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, especially if you deserve it… and you do, you really do.”

Derek doesn’t argue it, even though he wants to, he just holds Stiles close and drops his head against the younger man’s shoulder, trying not to think about everything he’s already said, and probably ruined just because he had the nerve to want them aloud, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Stiles admits with a shaky breath, reaching up with both hands and tangling his fingers in Derek’s hair as he turns his head, kissing the corner of his mate’s mouth, “Felt like I was dying without you here.”

Derek can more than empathize with that, and he scoops Stiles’s legs out from under him, laying him back down as the alpha settles against him, resting his head on the younger man’s chest, “How long was I gone?”

Stiles can feel his body thrum with contentment and he smiles weakly, keeping his hands in the older man’s hair, “A month,” he tells him.

“Felt like longer,” the alpha says in a huff of breath, “I lost my car…” he mutters softly as his hand rests on Stiles’s stomach, fingers brushing the scar from when he got shot.

“We can find it,” Stiles says optimistically, nails scratching against Derek’s scalp lightly, “If not, we can get you a new one…” he grins then, “Or you could, you know, just start driving my jeep,” he offers.

Derek closes his eyes as he feels the fingers in his hair, “Has Deaton fired me yet?”

“Not yet,” Stiles says, spreading his legs a little and smoothing the bottom of his right foot down the back of Derek’s thigh, “He’s not happy, though. I tried to cover for you.”

Derek lifts his brows, “What did you tell him? That I was going through a relapse because of the steroids?”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head even though he knows Derek won’t see the movement, “I just-I told him that there were… urgent personal matters and that you had to go. I don’t think he believes me, but it was enough, apparently. He wanted to know why you couldn’t at least call, I think they all think I killed you or something.”

Derek nods as he closes his eyes sleepily, turning into Stiles to breathe his scent in deep, “You should’ve.”

Stiles ignores the statement, continuing to brush his fingers through his mate’s hair as he watches Derek close his eyes, “There’ve been two more bodies since you left,” he says, figuring his partner has the right to know, “Deaton was threatening to give the case to someone else, said the body count was getting too high and that it was too much for just me.”

“Two more bodies?” Derek frowns, “Were there any more notes at the scenes?”

“With the fifth, yeah,” Stiles admits and he feels his heart race suddenly when he remembers what it said.

Derek pulls back to look Stiles in the eyes as he hears his mate start to panic somewhat, “What did it say?”

“Um,” Stiles wets his lips and tries to downplay the severity of it by shrugging, even though he knows his mate can hear how worked up just thinking about it gets him, “‘I know you’re alone’,” he tells Derek, “I dunno, I think he might’ve been watching me there for a while.”

“You’re not alone now,” Derek responds as he tries not to let Stiles’s dismissive behavior get to him, “Was that all you found at the scenes? Anything else?”

“Nothing else, aside from how each new victim is beaten just a little more than the last,” Stiles says, trying to pull Derek back down against him, “We found an abandoned Ion under the fourth street bridge… after the fire department put it out, that is.”

“It’s not often there’s a serial killer that’s so aware,” Derek says grimly, laying down but staring into Stiles’s eyes still, “I should’ve been here with you.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees softly, tracing the side of his mate’s face with the tips of his fingers, “But you’re here now, that’s all I really care about at the moment.”

“My being absent caused more problems than it was worth to leave in the first place,” Derek says as he blinks slowly, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Stiles says softly, brushing the pad of his thumb over Derek’s left eyebrow, “Don’t apologize, I think we’ve both apologized enough.”

Derek nods in agreement as subtly as possible, “I can’t help it when I know I endangered your life.”

“I endangered myself,” Stiles admits, but he doesn’t elaborate on it, he just focuses on touching his mate, making sure that their skin doesn’t separate for longer than necessary.

“What day is it?” Derek asks then, narrowing his brows because he’s still somewhat thrown off by being away for so long.

“Sunday,” Stiles responds and pushes at Derek’s shoulder gently, grunting as he maneuvers his mate onto his back, dropping down against him then and resting his head against the older man’s right pec.

“Good,” Derek says as he smiles and holds Stiles close, reaching his hand up to touch the younger man’s neck, “Then we’re going back to sleep, I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t sleep at all.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I actually willingly went to sleep,” Stiles mumbles and entertains the thought of reaching for his blanket before he realizes that his mate’s body heat will be more than enough to keep him warm, so he gets comfortable and nuzzles against Derek’s firm chest as he closes his eyes, “It was more like my body had just had enough and decided to shut down on me.”

“Me too,” Derek agrees as he presses his lips to the top of Stiles’s head, “It was bad when I was away from you, but last night I… I’ve never wanted you so badly before.”

“You should’ve come in here,” Stiles tells him lowly, resting his right hand upon his mate’s chest, “You should’ve come and got in bed with me, it was just as bad on my end.”

Derek nods, covering Stiles’s hand with his own, “I was going to leave this morning,” he admits.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Stiles utters faintly and turns his hand some, linking their fingers together.

“You’re my mate,” Derek responds as he closes his eyes, “Leaving the first time was hard enough, I didn’t have the energy to do it again.”

Stiles sits up slowly and looks down at Derek with furrowed brows, trying not to panic over the words, “So, what happens w-when you’re not-when you’re not so exhausted?” he asks worriedly, “You’re not just… tell me you’re not just gonna up and leave again when the mood hits you. You’re not, are you?”

Derek opens his eyes and looks at Stiles, his free hand moving to brush through the younger man’s hair, “I’m not, baby, now lay back down,” he says, voice rough with sleep.

Stiles sighs his relief almost at once and slumps back down against the older man, taking solace in the words and curling himself against his mate’s warm skin, “ _I love you_ ,” he whispers, turning his head and pressing an affectionate kiss to the werewolf’s chest.

“I love you, too,” Derek says softly as he smiles and watches Stiles, his hand cupping the back of the boy’s neck as he feels sleep trying to push it’s way in finally, content for the first time in over a month now, “I’m not leaving again.”

* * *

After missing an entire month of work, coming back into the office feels like walking the plank or something. Derek knows that Deaton isn’t happy with him, it’s not like he can argue it - it doesn’t help that he has no real viable excuse for his absence.

Thankfully he doesn’t get fired, he just gets more ‘me time’ with his therapist, and then loses all the vacation time he uses for the full moon each month to make up for his time lost. Which Deaton probably will soon enough realize isn’t the smartest thing to do, but Derek can’t argue that either.

He walks back to his desk and sits down, trying to ignore what people around him are saying, and he looks across to Stiles as he presses his lips together, “Looks like you’re working alone most of today.”

Stiles looks up from the two files in front of him and frowns at his partner, glancing off in the direction of Deaton’s office briefly, “Why, what happened?” he asks, trying to keep the worry from his tone, “What’d he say?”

“I have to see my therapist,” Derek says, sighing in annoyance and going through the built up pile of papers on the side of his desk, “I won’t be able to tell her anything, it’s not like I can say I spent the month running around the forest naked…”

The situation in itself isn’t humorous, really, it’s not, but Stiles has to cover his mouth to hide the small smirk pulling up at the corner of his lips, because it’s not a bad visual, “When do you have to go?” he asks, then taps the files on his desk with his fingers, “Thought we could go over these together.”

“I have to go in about ten minutes,” Derek says, narrowing his brows, “But I’ll be back at lunch, I don’t understand why he thinks he needs to waste my time when we have cases built up that we need to deal with… and… another thing, looks like I’ll be here for the full moon, too.”

Stiles rubs his hand over his mouth then and his smirk turns into a frown, because that’s not good, “That’s not good,” he voices as such and looks at his mate worriedly, “Think you can maybe manage to not snap someone’s neck?”

“Doubtful,” Derek says as he tries to clean up his desk some, “It’ll probably be easier with you here than it’s been before, but I’m not sure.”

“I’ll help you through it,” Stiles insists and offers the werewolf a small, affectionate smile, “You want me to bring these two files with me at lunch?”

Derek nods, “Yeah, and I think I’ll have some time after that, too, the next session is at one,” he reaches up to scratch through his beard, trying not to seem as furious about the entire thing as he is, “Deaton’s under the impression that it was… that our relationship was the problem, the reason why I was gone,” unfortunately he’s not wrong there.

“Why would he even assume as much?” Stiles asks and narrows his brows in confusion, “I mean, I know how I acted when you were, you know, gone, but I don’t think I moped that much. I tried to keep it relatively professional when I was here, I don’t get it.”

“Apparently you weren’t that convincing,” Derek says as he takes a breath, “It’s not just that, I didn’t really give him a good enough reason for being gone for a month, I should’ve just admitted to drug use, at least then he wouldn’t take away my vacation time…”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says and watches his mate, “I really did try, I tried to act normal and I tried covering for you. Just… try not to worry so much over the whole having to work during the full moon thing. We’ll deal with it together, okay?”

Derek nods as he stands from his desk and walks around to Stiles’s side, leaning down to press his lips to the younger man’s before standing back upright and leaving the offices.

Stiles smiles as he watches Derek walk off, licking his lips and tasting his mate there, “I love you, big guy,” he whispers, knowing the werewolf will hear it, “Try not to kill the therapist.”

* * *

Derek walks back into the office area a few hours later, fingers brushing across Stiles’s back as he moves to his seat to grab his things, motioning to the elevator with a nod of his head, “Ready?”

Stiles hums quietly when he feels Derek touch him and he looks up quickly, nodding as he gathers his things, snagging the files and putting them under an arm, “Yep. Do you wanna walk down to that hot dog place down the street or do you wanna go somewhere else?”

“We can walk,” Derek agrees as he opens the lowermost drawer and shoves the papers he’s holding on the top of the rest before pulling on his holster and his coat, “That’s fine.”

Stiles nods and stands up, patting his pocket to make sure he still has his wallet on him before he moves to slowly make his way to the elevator, waiting on his mate.

Derek follows quickly after Stiles, joining him at the elevator and resting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder blades, “Were you bored sitting in the office?”

“I’m usually pretty bored when you’re not around, yeah,” Stiles tells him and inadvertently gravitates closer to the older man before stepping into the elevator, reaching out to jab the button, “How’d it go?”

“As well as I expected,” Derek admits, keeping close to Stiles as he turns to look down at him, “I thought the papers we filed for our relationship in the beginning were invasive enough…”

“She hammered you with questions about us?” Stiles asks and leans against Derek, even though there’s an entire empty elevator he could be occupying with his space.

Derek nods grimly, “About how I feel about you, about how I _think_ you feel about me, about what we do on our breaks at work,” he swallows tightly, “Future plans, things like that.”

“And did you actually answer her?” Stiles asks curiously, looking up and watching the werewolf’s face.

“Some of the time,” Derek says, smiling slightly and walking out of the elevator when the doors open, “She had our papers, she’s annoyed that I don’t ‘open up more’ because where you actually explained most things, I just put ‘not applicable’.”

“If she only knew just how much you **do** open up now, opposed to how closed off you used to be,” Stiles muses to himself and walks alongside Derek, “It’d probably blow her mind.”

“I did open up some,” Derek says, “I tried to - if I don’t, she’ll just keep me in there for the rest of my life… or suspend me.”

“What all did you open up about?” Stiles asks curiously, pretty much preparing himself to be shut down, because if his mate opened up once already today, he’s probably not in the mood to do it again.

“I confirmed a lot of things that were on your papers, things she asked about that I avoided on mine,” Derek responds as his hand moves down to Stiles’s lower back.

“How we met, how I felt about you when we met, when I started having feelings for you, how I felt when you were stabbed, and then when you were shot, how I took care of you. The only things I **didn’t** answer were things about your relationship with Heather.”

“I’m proud of you,” Stiles tells him then and wraps his free arm around his mate’s back, smiling up at him genuinely, “Even if you only opened up to get her off of your back. Derek Hale from a year ago probably would’ve just scowled and grunted at her, this is what I call personal growth.”

“Probably,” Derek agrees, “I probably disclosed too much information, though, it would’ve been better to keep certain things to myself. Now I think she’s under the impression we have an unhealthy relationship…”

Stiles stops walking and grips the back of Derek’s shirt, stopping him as well and leveling his mate with a concerned look, “What did you tell her to make her think that?”

Derek frowns as he stops and looks at Stiles nervously, “After I started answering questions about how serious our relationship was, and where I saw it going, she asked about my family history and if I wanted to adopt children with you.”

“Okay,” Stiles says slowly, “And why would any response to a question like that make her think that our relationship is unhealthy?”

“I refused to answer at first,” Derek explains tentatively, “You know I don’t like talking about it, it’s difficult enough talking to **you** about the things I want, let alone that bitch.”

“Derek,” Stiles says and searches the older man’s eyes, “I still don’t understand, why would you refusing to answer make her think we’re in an unhealthy relationship?”

“I think it just escalated quickly,” the alpha says, “When I refused to tell her how I felt, she asked if we talked about those kinds of things. I told her I did, but I don’t think she believed me. She asked if I thought **you** wanted kids, I told her I knew you did and then she asked again if I wanted kids and… by that point I was… I told her I didn’t, and that it wasn’t any of her business.”

“Why’d you lie to her?” Stiles asks, because he doesn’t really understand what the big deal would be if Derek actually admitted he wanted a family.

Derek huffs and crosses his arms, “I don’t…” he looks away and shakes his head, “It’s not her business, and I don’t want to say things like that aloud.”

Stiles reaches up tentatively and puts his hand on Derek’s wrist, trying to pull his mate’s arms away from his chest, because he doesn’t want the older man getting defensive with him, “Okay,” he says softly and nods, then reaches up to grab the alpha by the nape of his neck to pull him down into a kiss, “Calm down.”

Derek nearly slumps to the ground when Stiles kisses him, his arms reaching out to grab the younger man and pull him close as he feels his body relaxing almost at once. He kisses Stiles again, mouth opening to run his tongue along the boy’s bottom lip.

Stiles hums at the sudden brush of tongue, body tingling at how quickly the kiss takes a turn for heated and he smiles against Derek’s mouth, fingertips scratching the base of his mate’s neck, “If we weren’t actually in public right now, I’d be all over you.”

Derek pulls back finally, glancing at the group of agents a few yards away watching them and he lifts his brow before turning to continue walking, “I know,” he admits at once, “I’ve been talking about you all morning, it hasn’t been easy to keep my hands off of you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Stiles says and he has to force himself to move, to follow his mate, “Keep your hands off of me, that is. We could… fool around a little, look at the files when we get home?”

“Fool around?” Derek asks in confusion, reaching out to touch Stiles’s back again.

“Yes, Derek, _fool around_ ,” Stiles chuckles weakly, “As in sneak off into a bathroom somewhere and put our hands all over one another.”

“We’re outside already, are we going back inside?” Derek asks as he glances around.

“We’re already halfway to the hotdog place, do you seriously have no imagination?” Stiles asks, giving the older man a pointed look, “ **And** there are alleyways, if you catch my drift.”

Derek narrows his brows as he continues walking as calmly as possible, turning around the left side of the building, around to the back where it’s more secluded and he pushes Stiles up against the wall, taking the files from the boy’s arm, setting them down carefully as he kisses Stiles again.

“Oh,” Stiles squeaks out in surprise, but enthusiastically reaches up to wind his arms around the werewolf’s neck, “Mm, didn’t expect you to actually be down with the idea,” he admits as he kisses his mate back, arching his hips out from the wall.

Derek listens closely to the area around them, his hands reaching down to lift Stiles up a little as the alpha grabs at his partner’s shirt, lifting the back of it out of his pants.

“You know,” Stiles says breathlessly and kisses out along Derek’s jaw, nipping at the older man’s neck, “You didn’t-I mean, you don’t have to humor me, we can go eat if you’d rather do that?”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek breathes as he shoves his right hand under Stiles’s shirt, grabbing his waist and pulling him in close as his other hand drops down, cupping the crotch of the younger man’s pants and rubbing his palm against Stiles’s cock.

“Shit,” Stiles groans against Derek’s neck and drops his forehead to his mate’s shoulder, “Please don’t make me come in my pants.”

Derek lifts his brows, then he raises his hand a little to unbuckle Stiles’s belt, pulling back to meet the other man’s eyes, “I won’t,” he says as he unbuttons and unzips the younger man’s pants and reaches into them as he drops down to his knees in front of Stiles.

“Oh my God,” Stiles’s eyes widen and his heart starts racing, cock twitching anxiously as he reaches up and brushes his fingers through Derek’s hair, “You’re unbelievable.”

The alpha isn’t particularly sure what prompted the comment, but he turns his head against the touch of the fingers, his own wrapping around Stiles’s length and pulling it out of his pants as he opens his mouth and leans in, taking the warm, slick head between his lips.

“Fuck,” Stiles hisses and thumps his head back against the wall, grimacing slightly as he fights the urge to buck forward into the wet heat surrounding him. His fingers tighten in his mate’s hair and his other hand clutches at Derek’s shoulder, length throbbing between the werewolf’s lips.

Derek growls eagerly, taking the girth into his mouth and moving his head back as he sucks, tongue rolling around the bottom of Stiles’s cock. His hands push the younger man’s pants down a little more, right reaching up to press his first two fingers into Stiles’s mouth.

Stiles whimpers and takes the digits into his mouth anxiously, licking and slurping around them as his hips roll forward subtly, unable to stop himself. They’ve never really done anything like this in public before. Well, aside from the bathroom at work, but this is different and it has him so worked up he isn’t sure if he’s going to last long - not that he ever does, anyway.

Derek can already smell Stiles growing closer and closer to release, so he grabs the younger man’s ass in his left hand, the fingers in Stiles’s mouth pulling back and pushing in again, feeling the soft, wet lips around them and his own length throbs as he bobs his head.

Stiles moans around the fingers and his mouth goes lax for a moment, eyebrows furrowing when his mate grips his ass and he has to fight down his orgasm. He’s not a teenage boy for fuck’s sake, Derek shouldn’t be able to pull him apart like this, not this quickly.

The alpha runs his fingers in between Stiles’s legs, rubbing his taint and up to the tight, puckered entrance. He glances up to watch his mate, the expression on Stiles's face as Derek’s fingers continue to push into his mouth.

What little restraint Stiles has left is completely diminished the moment he feels the pads of Derek’s fingers against his hole, the muscle fluttering as he comes and gasps around the digits in his mouth. His legs wobble with the release and he holds onto his mate firmly, desperate to stay vertical.

The alpha swallows quickly, tongue running over the length before he pulls back, hands moving from Stiles’s mouth and between his legs as Derek stands up, pressing quick, wet kisses up Stiles’s stomach and chest until he reaches the younger man’s mouth.

“Mm,” Stiles hums appreciatively and kisses back, touching Derek’s chest after he works to tuck himself back in, “You,” he breathes lowly, chasing his taste in his mate’s mouth, “Your turn.”

Derek chuckles and buttons up Stiles’s pants, pulling him close by the front of his shirt as he leans down to scent the younger man’s neck, “If you want to.”

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles says incredulously, eyes fluttering closed for just a moment when he feels the soft snuffle against his neck, “Of course I want to,” he insists, “I’d probably live with my mouth permanently attached to your dick if I could.” After spinning them around, he pushes the alpha gently to the wall and drops his hands down to hurriedly get his partner’s pants undone.

Derek grabs Stiles by the back of the neck, leaning in to kiss him again as the older man reaches down to help him. He doesn’t bother responding to the unusual comment and, as appealing as the visual is, there are plenty of other things he’d prefer to do that would be difficult if it worked that way.

Stiles moves down to his knees in front of Derek and frowns almost at once, because the older man’s legs are too long. Every other time they’ve done this, he’s either been sitting on the edge of the bed while Derek was standing, or they were just completely horizontal, he’s never actually dropped to his knees for the guy, “Uh, Derek.”

Derek glances down and shifts his feet out a bit to lower his waist for Stiles, smiling slightly as he reaches out to run his hand through the back of the younger man’s hair.

Stiles wets his lips and keeps his eyes locked with Derek’s for a moment as he pulls the older man’s length out, probably a little too eager to get his mate off.

He wraps his fingers around the large girth and pumps the shaft a few times, pressing his lips to the exposed sliver of the werewolf’s hip and kissing inward, breathing in the familiar, heady scent he associates with his mate’s sex before rolling the foreskin back to sink his mouth down onto his partner’s cock.

Derek drops his head back and breathes calmly a few times to collect himself before looking back down at Stiles, his right hand cupping the boy’s cheek and jaw, his thumb stroking Stiles’s skin. He’s still not particularly use to receiving head, even though they’ve been together for a while, it’s not something they do often enough.

Derek’s length is large, so Stiles has to relax his jaw the further he sinks down, mouth pulled wide and pressing against the beginning of the werewolf’s knot before he pulls back, then he does it all over again, setting a semi-slow pace as he bobs his head.

He hums around it, wanting the older man to know just how much he enjoys this, enjoys the taste and being able to satisfy his mate - as if the scent permeating from him while he does it won’t be enough to clue Derek in.

“Stiles,” the alpha mutters weakly, staring down at the smaller man as he takes in Derek’s length. It’s always shocking to see Stiles do it without having to put forth too much effort, deep-throating him as easily as he could just about anything else. Derek’s mouth dries at once and he tries to swallow, wetting his lips with his tongue as he touches the back of his partner’s neck.

Stiles smirks around the girth and his eyes flit up to meet Derek’s, bracing himself with one hand against the older man’s thigh as he uses his other hand to tease the knot, kneading the taut skin with his fingers as he hollows his cheeks and curls his tongue against the underside of the werewolf’s cock.

Derek gasps and arches his hips a little, his breaths coming out shakily as the younger man starts touching his knot, “Careful,” he says, eyes widening as it swells a bit, Derek’s toes curling in his shoes as he fights the urge to knot his partner’s mouth.

Stiles groans around the cock and pulls off for a moment, leaving the thick length slick and shiny, so he pumps it from tip to root before suckling on the head, tongue lashing out against the slit to taste Derek’s pre-come.

The alpha lets out a huff as he relaxes a little more, the hand on the back of the younger man’s neck moving to scratch through his hair as Derek watches him, his other hand reaching out mindlessly to brush along his knot.

Stiles watches Derek touch himself and he suddenly really wishes they had more time, because his eyes dilate and he feels his own dick twitch in response. He sucks the older man back down again, attention rapt on the way the werewolf is touching his knot.

“What?” Derek asks lowly as he watches the way Stiles stares at him, smelling the strong scent of the smaller man’s arousal. He’s not sure if it’s just the situation in general that’s exciting Stiles, or seeing Derek touch himself, but he doesn’t stop, just in case that’s what it is.

Stiles’s cheeks heat and he pulls back off again, reaching up to brush the spit off of his bottom lip with his thumb, “I dunno, it’s just hot,” he explains honestly, “Tell me you wouldn’t get aroused watching me play with myself,” he raises a brow at the werewolf, smirking before he takes his mate’s cock back into his mouth.

Derek nods in understanding, his fingers moving to the base of his knot, “When you first moved into my house, I had to listen to you getting off all of the time in the shower,” he says as his length throbs the moment he starts thinking back on it.

Stiles hums in response at first, not wanting to continually pull off in order to talk to Derek. The admission causes his heart to flutter, though, knowing that his mate could hear the slick sounds of his hand stripping his dick, his moans and whimpers.

“The first time,” Derek continues to speak in an effort to bring his release closer, “I ended up getting off in bed, listening to you and **not** doing it was too painful.”

Stiles whines around the length in his mouth and forces himself to go deeper, eyes watering as he looks up at Derek and his fingers dig into the older man’s thigh, his own arousal almost becoming too much at this point.

Derek reaches out with both hands, cupping Stiles’s cheeks and staring him in the eyes as he guides the younger man’s movements, his thumbs brushing the tears as they fall and he shifts slightly against the wall, keeping his hips still especially now that his hands are on the younger man, “You didn’t make it easy, resisting the urge to go into the bathroom and do it **for** you.”

Stiles narrows his brows and continues to make pathetic, muffled noises around Derek’s length, reaching up to touch his mate’s wrist with one hand as he presses the palm of his other against his own cock. He rocks his hips against it, thinking about the werewolf doing just that and wishing he had.

It’s not like he _wants_ to come in his pants, but he can’t help it, because both the imagery and having his partner guiding his mouth is too much. Stiles tenses slightly when it hits, gasping and groaning, lips tightening around Derek’s cock as his second orgasm washes over him.

Derek’s eyes widen as he watches Stiles and his mouth drops open, the strong scent of the boy’s release and arousal causing his hips to buck involuntarily and he growls, pulling Stiles down to his knot as he comes and stares down at his mate.

The muscles in his arms flex as his knot starts to swell against Stiles’s teeth and Derek has to force himself to pull the younger man back as he slumps against the wall and tries to catch his breath.

Stiles inhales sharply once he swallows and sits back, ass resting on the backs of his calves and he stares up at Derek with wide eyes as he rubs his lips, “You should do that more often, yeah,” he nods, still coming down from it all.

“Do what more often?” Derek asks as he pulls up his tight boxer briefs and his pants, glancing down at the crotch of Stiles’s own.

“The uh,” Stiles swallows as his chest heaves, “I dunno, the subtle dirty talk, the whole… pulling me onto your dick thing, that was nice.”

Derek nods silently in consideration as he moves to sit beside Stiles, he’s not one for dirty talk, and he wouldn’t even consider what he did to be anything like it, but he supposes there’s no harm in trying, “I felt somewhat guilty getting off the first time, because you didn’t know how I felt or what I was.”

“Don’t feel guilty,” Stiles says and reaches to touch Derek’s leg, shaking his head, “It’s no biggy, honestly. If I had issues with it, I probably wouldn’t have just gotten off because of it.”

He leans over and kisses the corner of his mate’s mouth, “We should get up, we’re gonna get dirty.”

“You’re already dirty,” Derek responds, standing up and offering a hand to Stiles as he glances down at himself and then to his watch, “We’ve still got time for lunch...”

“Blowjobs and hot dogs,” Stiles chuckles and takes Derek’s hand, grunting softly as he stands up and dusts his knees off, “Sounds good.”

Derek fixes his shirt, putting back on his coat and reaching out to run his fingers through Stiles’s hair a few times so it doesn’t look like he’s been messing around _too_ much, although they’re not the first to come back here and get off.

“Do you have a spare change of clothes in your jeep?” he asks as he bends down to get Stiles’s files from where he’d set them.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles tells him and furrows his brows, looking down over himself again, “Do I really look that bad?” he asks.

“No, but all I can smell is your seed,” Derek responds and he looks at Stiles, “I could clean you.”

Stiles quirks a brow at that, “What do you mean by ‘I could clean you’?”

Derek shrugs, “I wouldn’t be able to get everything, but it’s better than letting it dry on your skin, if you’re not gonna change.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that, maybe I need to rephrase,” Stiles grins, “What do you mean you could clean me? Like, with a paper towel or are we talking your tongue? Because I can tell you right now, all that’s gonna do is get me hard again. My refractory period is stupid.”

“You actually think you can get off a third time?” Derek asks as he raises a brow, “You don’t have a plug shoved up in you, I’m sure that was a one time thing.”

“This is **me** we’re talking about, Derek,” Stiles snorts at his mate and shakes his head, grinning at the older man, “It’s like you really don’t know me at all, wow.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “You bitched at me the last time I tried to get you off more than twice, and now you’re arguing like three times wouldn’t be difficult.”

He looks at the time again and then wets his lips, “Do you want me to clean you, or are you gonna change?”

Stiles narrows his eyes at the werewolf and takes the files from him, “I’ll change,” he says, moving to head back out from around the building.

Derek smiles and walks after his partner, stopping Stiles before he reaches the sidewalk and the alpha grabs him around the waist, one hand moving to tuck his mate’s shirt into his pants in the back before kissing the nape of the younger man’s neck, “You still look like I just knotted you against the back wall.”

Stiles looks back at his mate and grins, “ _Good_ ,” he says, leaning up to kiss him quickly before moving again.

The alpha keeps close this time, his hand staying rested on Stiles’s back as he watches the younger man, “Can I ask you something?” he says before he can stop himself. He’s not normally forward with Stiles, but he’s feeling unusually anxious now, the hand on the younger man’s back curling into the shirt.

“Yeah, baby, what’s up?” Stiles looks at Derek curiously, keeping close to his mate’s side as he tucks the folders back under his arm again.

Derek was originally going to ask something else, but he changes his question at the last second, “When… are you-does it bother you that I lied to the therapist? Even if it was just to her, I wanna know if something like that bothers you.”

“It did at first,” Stiles says honestly and then shrugs, “But the more I think about it, the less it does, because **I** know you want a family with me, so… that’s all that matters, right?”

Derek nods and looks down, “I feel like saying something like it out loud would…” he works his jaw for a moment, he doesn’t normally let Stiles in on certain things he thinks and feels, but he wants to, considering what they’re planning on doing together, it seems like something he needs to get use to doing, “I’d ruin it.”

“Like… you think saying it aloud will jinx it?” Stiles asks just to confirm what his mate is saying, leaning against the older man as they walk together.

“Not exactly, but kind of. I don’t like wanting things, or expecting them, or hoping for them - chances are the moment I do it… Something happens, when I do.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Stiles tries to reassure his mate, “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting things, or hoping for them. We’ll have a family, Derek, eventually - you admitting to actually wanting that isn’t gonna keep it from happening.”

Derek thinks he could argue that statement pretty well, but he doesn’t, he just shakes his head and lets out a huff of breath as they walk, his hand smoothing along Stiles’s back, “I just want you, that’s all I need,” he says somewhat stubbornly.

“Hey,” Stiles says and stops walking to look up at Derek, frowning weakly, “We’ve had this conversation, don’t go back on what we talked about. I know you want a family, I dunno how many times I have to tell you there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Derek all but grimaces when Stiles says it and he keeps walking despite his mate stopping, “I’m not going back on anything,” he says as he stares ahead, “I just-I-it doesn’t come easily for me, it never will.”

Stiles watches Derek as he continues to walk away, shaking his head to himself before finally moving again, but he doesn’t jog or anything to catch up with the werewolf, “I can handle that, so long as you still want a family with me.”

“I want you any way I can have you,” Derek says as he looks back at Stiles longingly, his hands itching to touch the younger man, “You know what I want, I shouldn’t have to say it out loud.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Stiles points out, glancing up at Derek as he pockets his hands, “I was just saying, I can deal with you seemingly not wanting for anything… so long as you still want a family with me. So, I guess if your mind changes on the matter, you should probably let me know.”

Derek narrows his eyes, reaching out for Stiles and pulling him in close, “My mind is set,” he says firmly, “It’ll **never** change. You’re my mate, I’m mated to you. No matter what happens, that’s a constant.”

“Good,” Stiles repeats the same word from earlier and tugs Derek the last fifteen feet or so to the hot dog place.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	14. In The Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _
> 
> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)

**There are four warnings coming into play in this chapter, and I'm putting this warning here in hopes that you'll actually read it. The warnings are: Bestiality** (in the form of Stiles having sex with Derek in his alpha form), **Bottom!Derek** (yes, in his alpha form, and I know that just bottom!Derek is a problem fer some, so if it makes you squick, you can stop reading before things get heated but there are some things before that point that are important), **Heat!Sex** (just in case there are people out there that would consider this mild dub-con), **Spanking** (yeah, that's a thing that happens in here). **You've been warned, and if you come to me in the comments with complaints, I'll point here.**

Derek walks into the house after Stiles, loosening his tie at once and unbuttoning his cuffs to roll his sleeves back. He locks the door, moving to turn down the thermostat as he runs one hand over his lips, fingers scratching his beard.

He walks back to the couch and sits down to take off his shoes, “You have a court sit-in tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answers and toes his shoes off as well, sitting the files down on the coffee table long enough to pull his tie off and unbutton the first two buttons of his shirt, “Why?”

“Just making sure you won’t be bored without me, I’ve got more sessions with the therapist,” the alpha says, watching Stiles and resisting the urge to reach out for his mate, “Come… sit down,” he mutters as his eyes drop to the exposed skin of the younger man’s chest, “Let’s look at these cases, finally.”

“I’m coming, big guy, give me a sec,” Stiles glances at Derek and tugs his shirt up out of his slacks, moving afterwards to pick the files back up and he sits down on his mate’s lap, “Hope you’re prepared for this. I mean, he seriously beat the shit out of them. I can’t even imagine what the scenes would’ve smelled like to you.”

Derek frowns at the comment, his hands grabbing Stiles as his eyes widen slightly and he shifts his partner, turning his nose against Stiles’s neck as he tries not to get too excited.

He scents his mate for a moment and then nods, “I… expected as much.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says vaguely and smiles, turning his head some and pressing a quick kiss to Derek’s temple before opening the first file on his lap, “Other than that, though, it’s all basically the same thing, different crime scenes.”

The alpha closes his eyes at the feeling of the younger man’s lips and his entire body heats in response, “Mhm,” he breathes, tilting the file to get a good look at the name of the girl, “Brandi Otwell,” he says as confidently as possible, even as his other hand mindlessly moves up Stiles’s side, “Did you talk to all the leads already?”

“Yep,” Stiles confirms and flips through the papers, taking the crime scene photographs out and offering them to Derek as he shifts a little on his mate’s lap to get more comfortable, “Nothing. I think the closest we’ve come to getting real actual information was when you talked to that one kid.”

Derek almost groans aloud when Stiles moves and his cock twitches, his breath staggering for a moment but he tries to act normal. He doesn’t understand why the need for the boy is so strong right now, they’ve already been intimate today, he shouldn’t feel so strung out.

“We were lucky with him,” he says, “Chances are that the killer is being more careful now that he knows we know what he looks like… somewhat.”

“I know,” Stiles says and glances at Derek for a moment, unsure of whether or not he actually heard the werewolf’s breath hitch, “I just-It’d be nice if he’d slip up just once, you know? The bodies are piling up, I’m starting to wonder if maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad idea for Deaton to give the case to someone else. We should’ve had the guy by now.”

“No one else would’ve done it better,” Derek says, “It happens with some cases, it’s not our fault,” he looks into Stiles’s eyes, feeling unusually guilty about being excited while they’re talking about the case, he knows it’s important… but he can’t help it, “We’re directly linked to it three times now, giving the case over to anyone else would be too complicated.”

“Maybe,” Stiles shrugs, “But maybe it’d be a smart move. He knows who we are, he knows we’re onto him. He’s probably so focused on us, he wouldn’t even realize it if someone else started working the case.”

“What would another person do that we aren’t already doing?” Derek asks, raising his brows, “We’ve got his blood, his seed, his fingerprints, his Ion - with your mind and my being a werewolf, and a senior agent, there’s no one else that could handle this case better.”

Stiles looks at Derek and considers his mate’s words, figuring that they’re true enough. It’s just disheartening that they haven’t caught the guy yet, is all.

He leans in and kisses the werewolf, pulling back to smile at him sadly, “We need to catch him.”

“We do,” Derek says breathlessly, searching Stiles’s face and he leans in to kiss the younger man again, his hand moving from Stiles’s shirt, fingering the bottom of it nervously as he tries not to skew his attention any more than it already is.

Stiles lifts his hand from the file and touches Derek’s cheek, fingers massaging through his beard as he breaks the kiss and nuzzles their noses together, “You’ve been really affectionate today,” he points out, “I like it.”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek says lowly, his eyes running over his mate’s face as he turns his cheek into the fingers and his cock hardens a little more, “I’m-we need to focus…”

“I’m aware,” Stiles says and finally pulls his hand away to pick the file back up, “But I’m allowed to take a minute and kiss my mate, sue me.”

Derek lets out a huff of breath, trying not to whine in the back of his throat when Stiles takes his hand away, “ _Yeah_ …” he mutters as his eyes drop to the smaller man’s lips and he licks his own.

Stiles opens the file up and tilts it so that Derek can see the reports, specifically pointing out certain things on the autopsy report, “See what I mean? The contusions on her face were pretty bad, but they’re mild compared to the next one.”

“ _Mm_ ,” Derek says as he tries to pull his gaze from Stiles, but it’s pointless, his hand finally moving to touch the younger man’s back, under the shirt. He was anticipating it to make him feel better somewhat, but it doesn’t, it just makes everything ache even more so.

“Mm?” Stiles asks and looks at his mate curiously, “That’s all you got for me?” he snorts softly and smiles, “When did you become so inarticulate regarding cases?”

Derek leans in and kisses Stiles the moment the other man looks at him, his free hand reaching out to touch his mate’s cheek. He’s not sure what’s coming over him, but he feels like if he doesn’t have Stiles on him and in him, he might lose it completely.

Stiles hums in surprise when Derek all but ambushes him with the kiss, touching the older man’s chest and pulling back to look at the werewolf with narrowed brows, “Thought you said we needed to focus… are you okay?”

Derek takes the files from Stiles’s hands and sets them aside, his eyes flashing as he leans in to scent the other man’s neck, breaths coming out as pants now and he licks Stiles’s neck from collar to ear, “ _No_ , _I’m not_ …” he says as he runs his hand up his mate’s back, “ _Stiles_.”

A sudden flicker of recognition comes to Stiles and he nods, smoothing his palm against his mate’s chest, “O-Okay, big guy,” he says, the air now hitting the wet patch on his neck making him shiver.

“I think you’re in heat,” he tells him, “Tell me how you’re feeling?”

Derek swallows as Stiles touches him and he whines in the back of his throat, “ _I want you_ , _Stiles_ ,” he says as his eyes run over the soft moles on the boy’s cheek and Derek licks at them, tasting them and moving suddenly to set his mate on the couch and the alpha climbs into his lap instead, staring down at Stiles as he reaches out to run his hands up the other man’s chest, “ _I just want you_ - _ **please**_.”

Stiles’s eyes widen, but he nods almost at once and starts to feel a little lightheaded, because for a minute he practically forgets to breathe. He remembers what Derek was like the one time, but the werewolf had been more about getting all up in him then, not like this - this is new.

He lifts his hands despite their trembling and very slowly begins to unbutton the older man’s shirt, “You can have me, I’m yours,” he reassures the werewolf.

Derek looks down at Stiles’s hands and he drops his head to his partner’s neck, rolling his hips impatiently and groaning miserably, “ _Stiles_ ,” he says, his hands reaching down to touch the front of the other man’s pants and it’s not enough. With every second, it starts to burn painfully, and he’s not sure if Stiles understands.

“ _I don’t-I want-_ ” he looks at his mate before turning around and pressing his back to Stiles’s front, arching his hips back and gasping in relief for the moment, “ _Fuck_.”

“Oh my God,” Stiles all but yelps and his hands shoot out instinctively, gripping Derek’s hips as the weight of his mate against him causes his cock to harden instantaneously, “Okay,” he whimpers, voice going up a few octaves and he forces himself to tug his partner’s shirt up out of the back of his slacks, “Okay, okay, okay. Work with me, Derek, **clothes off**.”

Derek growls in frustration and rips the shirt off completely, panting as he tries to take off his belt but he ends up doing the same to it before looking at Stiles and shaking his head, “ _I can’t-I need you_ , _Stiles_.”

“And I wanna help,” Stiles tells him, leaning forward to kiss his mate’s back, “But I need you to help me help you, so I need you to get up, okay? Go to the bedroom, I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Derek doesn’t want to do that at all and he stares at Stiles for a moment, eyes glassing over as he clenches his jaw shut and nods. It’s painful to pull himself from Stiles and he moves numbly to the bedroom, his chest heaving as he strips down the rest of the way and climbs onto the bed, trying not to concentrate so much on the burning.

Stiles follows at once and manages to get his own shirt off before he even reaches the bedroom, hands moving quickly to undo his pants and he pushes them down, boxers as well, then he kicks the fabric away. It’s a little nerve-wracking, but not at all in a bad way, he’s just never done this before. Or, not with Derek at least, and he just wants to make sure it’s good for the alpha.

Stiles crawls onto the bed and leans over the werewolf, knees nudging his partner’s thighs apart, “Tell me what you want, big guy.”

“ _You_ ,” Derek says as he breathes quickly through his nose and arches his back, offering himself to Stiles and looking back at him, “ _I want you to fuck me, please_.”

“Holy shit, that is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life,” Stiles breathes out and nods, “Okay,” he agrees and lays down against his mate, kissing the triskelion tattoo as he smooths his hand down the werewolf’s right side.

“Lemme get the lube,” he mumbles and he has to force himself to pull away from his mate to get it, making a mess of the liquid when he opens the bottle, fumbling to get it all over his fingers. He snaps the lid shut and tosses it towards the pillows before looking down at the round, plush swell of Derek’s ass, “I’m gonna open you up now, okay?”

Derek feels his cheeks heat at the thought of **Stiles’s** fingers inside of him and he nods, spreading his legs a little more, “ _God_ , _I want that_ ,” he mutters out loud to himself and groans, reaching down to run his hand along his knot.

Stiles lets out a high pitched whine as he watches Derek, licking his lips at how pink and heavy the older man’s balls are hanging betwixt his thighs.

It’ll probably be a while before he has another chance like this, so he takes his dry hand and squeezes his mate’s left ass cheek, spreading them apart as well as he can before pressing a light, chaste kiss against Derek’s whorled rim.

“I want it, too,” he says, taking his lube-slicked hand and rubbing the pads of his fingers over the werewolf’s entrance, first finger sliding in with ease and he almost comes all over himself as he watches the digit sink in.

Derek’s mouth drops open as he feels Stiles squeeze his ass and he almost says something, but then the younger man’s mouth is on him and his finger is in him and he forgets for a moment, gasping and grabbing the pillow from in front of him as his knot swells subtly, “ _S-Stiles_ ,” he says as he wets his lips and shifts his hips, swaying them a little, “Please, just-just **more** , Stiles.”

“Okay,” Stiles tries to calm his mate, peppering kisses along the small of Derek’s back and licking at the dimples just above his ass as he pushes another finger in. For this not being something they do very often, or at all, it’s kind of amazing to him just how well the werewolf is taking it, “God, you’re beautiful, you know that?”

The alpha blushes and tries not to respond, his toes curling, claws scratching into the headboard at the end of the mattress, but it ends up coming out anyway, “Okay,” he huffs out, not much caring for it, he just wants Stiles in him before he loses it completely.

“You are,” Stiles insists, keeping his lips against Derek’s back as he pumps his fingers in and out of his mate, opening him up quickly and scissoring his fingers within the heat some before adding a third, “You’re perfect, you’re perfect to me,” he murmurs, nipping up along the werewolf’s spine.

“Stiles,” Derek mutters weakly, his length throbbing and, while he **wants** to ask for more, he tries to resist again. But he might as well be trying to stop breathing, because it comes out before he can so much as blink, “Touch me, please.”

He reaches back to the hand that isn’t inside of him, his eyes meeting the younger man’s and he grits his teeth, brows notching together, “ _Please_ -”

“Anything you want, big guy,” Stiles nods and smooths his hand around Derek’s side, palm brushing down along his mate’s stomach and he reaches further down, groaning when he wraps his hand around the hard length. The alpha’s **never** been this hard, he’s pretty sure of it, so he’s gentle as he starts pumping the shaft and he simultaneously pushes a fourth finger into the werewolf.

Derek looks down to watch Stiles’s hand, his body shifting between the younger man’s fingers and he drops his head against the pillow, whining and whimpering as he rocks back and forth, his entire body shaking and he doesn’t even care if it wasn’t the exact kind of touching he was asking for - it’s too good to argue, “More, Stiles, **more**.”

“I’m trying, baby,” Stiles tells him, quickening the pace of his fingers inside of the werewolf and he doesn’t want to, because he knows how desperate the older man is, but he pulls away for a moment. He leans to grab the lube again and slicks himself up quickly.

“Stiles,” Derek growls as he turns in confusion, his hips arching down against the bed, “Don’t-don’t stop,” he turns to look at the younger man as he tries to move back against his partner, “Don’t stop now…”

“I gotta get myself ready, Derek,” Stiles tries to calmly explain, all but throwing the lube aside as he moves to crowd up against the back of his mate, “You want me inside of you, don’t you?” he asks and leans down to kiss the heated skin, “Flip onto your back, I’ll be able to touch you more that way.”

“No, _not like that_ ,” Derek says as he shifts back even closer, rutting his ass against Stiles’s cock, “ _Just **breed** me_ ,” he pants and feels his knot swell a little more, “Stiles, I-Can you…”

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles says numbly and he’s getting seriously overwhelmed with how hot it is to see Derek like this, even though he knows it’s probably no fun for his mate.

“I’ve got you,” he tries to soothe the alpha, running a hand up the older man’s back as he uses his other to grab his cock, pressing the blunt tip of his length against his partner’s entrance before sinking in slowly, “Oh fuck.”

“Yes,” The alpha all but hisses as his eyes roll back in his head and his cock throbs, pre-come dripping over the sheets as he pants, “ _Stiles_ ,” he whines, his body trembling violently.

“I know,” Stiles groans and his hips twitch, causing him to pull out and shift back in quickly and he braces himself for a moment with both of his hands against Derek’s back, “I know, baby. I know.”

Derek shakes his head, Stiles really has no clue at all, but he doesn’t say that. He reaches back, touching the younger man’s leg as he tries to keep calm, “Could-would you…” he swallows tightly as his cheeks heat, “ _Stiles_ -”

“What do you want?” Stiles asks, hands moving up along the warm, soft expanse of skin and he grabs Derek by his shoulders, urging his mate back onto his cock suddenly, “Tell me.”

Derek shakes again, his body almost shifting forms, but he holds it back as he growls and the words come out whether he wants them to or not, “ _Smack me_.”

Stiles whimpers pitifully at the words and pulls his right hand back from Derek’s shoulder, purposefully making sure his hand slides back down the skin, trying to touch the werewolf as much as possible. He withdraws his hand after he brushes his palm over the plump globe of Derek’s right ass cheek and he wets his lips, holding his breath as he brings his hand back down against the skin harshly, groaning loudly at the sound it makes.

“Like that? That what you want?”

The alpha gasps, eyes widening when Stiles smacks him and he nearly comes at once, his chest pressing to the bed as he arches even more for his mate, “ ** _Yes_** , **_please_** ,” he says, not feeling as ashamed as he had a moment before, the _need_ clouding just about anything else he could possibly feel as he looks back, “ _ **Again**_.”

“You got it,” Stiles grunts as he moves his hips, pace already relentless as he draws back again and smacks Derek’s ass harder this time, mesmerized by how pink his skin becomes, “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Yes it is,” Derek responds and he bites his bottom lip as his eyes flash and he growls again, wanting more still, but he tries to concentrate on the length inside of him - the strong scent of his mate and the hand on Stiles’s leg.

“Wish I had a knot,” Stiles says mindlessly, hand on Derek’s shoulder gripping the flesh and he pulls the werewolf back as he thrusts in almost viciously, cracking his other hand down against the older man’s ass again without being prompted, “I’d knot you, fuck you into the bed, make you come all over yourself.”

Derek whines, his eyes closing as a sharp, painful shudder runs through him and he shifts, fur sprouting out over his body and he feels the bed groan under his weight, his length drizzling release over the sheets as he pants and licks his muzzle, claws tearing into the headboard.

“Oh my fucking God,” Stiles nearly shouts when Derek shifts, eyes widening and for a split second he almost loses it completely, almost ruins it all by coming too soon, “ **Derek** ,” he groans, eyes raking over the alpha’s massive form, down along the fur as he scratches his fingers through it and he grins when he sees the tail.

Derek growls in approval as he moves back against Stiles, turning to look at the other man then because, while he’s apparently in heat and can’t think much, he’s still unsure if this is okay with his mate. It seems fine, the younger man’s scent is almost overwhelming in this form. He can barely smell **anything** else, not even his own seed, because of how much he wants Stiles.

Stiles’s eyes flit up from the fluffy tail and he meets the werewolf’s, grinning even more as he starts fucking into his mate in earnest, grabbing a hold of the fur for leverage, “You good, big guy?” he asks, panting as he scrabbles one hand down through the fur to pet along the older man’s tail.

“ _ **Yeah**_ ,” Derek says as his tail twitches curiously, it’s a sensation he’s never felt in his **entire** life and it feels oddly sensitive - he’s not sure if it’s a good or bad one, though, but he curls his body slightly on the bed for comfort, cock already dripping again. He barely even recognized the first time, the heat still overwhelming as Stiles thrusts into him and Derek whines, opening his mouth to pant before he turns back to lick the younger man’s face.

Stiles moans weakly and kisses Derek back the best he can, pressing his lips against the werewolf’s muzzle and trailing the tip of his tongue down along one of his canines, “I love you,” he breathes out, the fur beginning to stick to his skin when his groin presses up against the older man’s backside.

“ _ **I love you**_ ,” Derek says as he closes his eyes and turns back, claws curling into the sheets as he whimpers every time Stiles pushes in, his body trying to move back without doing too much.

“M’trying to hold out… for you,” Stiles all but wheezes, petting the tail again and closing his eyes as he pounds into his mate, “But I dunno how much longer I can stave it off, babe.” His balls are already drawn up and aching, each thrust in sending jolts of pleasure up his spine and he knows that if he opens his eyes and looks at Derek at this point, he won’t even be able to stop it.

“ _ **Go ahead. It’s okay, now, you can.**_ ”

Stiles opens his eyes and looks at the werewolf, brows notching together as he grabs the older man’s hind legs, head lolling back as he pulls his mate into his frantic thrusts. He comes with a weak shout, hips slowing, but he grinds in a few more times before slumping against Derek’s back, “Just-Just give me a minute… and I’ll be good to go again.”

Derek turns to look at Stiles better, scenting at the boy’s sweated skin and licking over it as he reaches back to gently run his claws through the younger man’s hair, “ _ **Thank you**_.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums his contentment and turns his head to kiss the fur, “Not even a problem, big guy.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	15. Serendipitous Werewolf Hentai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _
> 
> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)

Derek turns into his mate’s scent, breathing in a few times before he opens his eyes and glances down at the younger man’s stomach. He lifts his head, shifting up and laying on the bed properly, scooping Stiles into his arms and stilling when he sees the long claw marks on the headboard. He barely remembers most of the day before, but there are certain parts of what he did last night that will probably never fade away in the slightest.

The alpha feels his cheeks heat and he kisses Stiles’s neck and shoulder to try and wake him up.

Stiles sighs happily and mindlessly burrows closer to the affection, keeping his eyes closed as he does so, “Again?” he asks drowsily and wets his lips, “Just-” his breathing starts to even back out again and he dozes back off, still exhausted from the night before.

Derek lifts a brow and smiles, his hands running over the younger man’s waist, “Stiles,” he says somewhat firmly, pressing a warm, breathy kiss to his mate’s jaw.

“Hmm?” Stiles hums and rustles against the bed some, tilting his head towards the soft press of lips, “Okay, just… just do that, I’ll be hard in a minute.”

“I’m not wanting sex,” Derek responds as he pulls back slightly, “I’m just trying to wake you up, we have work.”

“What’s wrong with my sex?” Stiles asks then, cracking an eye open to squint at Derek, “How come you don’t want it?”

“Nothing is wrong with it, we just don’t have time for it,” the alpha says as he watches Stiles, “We **might** have time for breakfast.”

“Oh God, yeah, that sounds nice,” Stiles nods and slings his forearm up over his eyes, “I want bacon and hashbrowns and eggs, maybe even pancakes. I need sustenance,” he says dramatically, voice still rough with sleep.

“If I have to come back in to wake you up, I’m pouring cold water on you,” Derek says as he gets up stiffly, rolling his shoulders and nearly slumping to the floor when his legs practically give out. He catches himself on the side of the bed and stands back upright before moving numbly to the dresser to get a pair of pajamas.

“Why you gotta be so mean?” Stiles asks rhetorically and glances up at Derek’s backside, grinning to himself because he knows his come is going to be dribbling down his mate’s thighs in no time, “I was so good to you last night, I deserve like… twenty extra minutes of sleep.”

“You’ve already gotten thirty-five,” Derek responds as he pulls the pajamas up his legs and looks back at Stiles, walking over to him and leaning down to kiss him, “Now get up, or we’ll be late,” he moves to leave the room, his whole body still aching as he fights the instinct to check his ass and see what’s damaged. He’s a werewolf, he shouldn’t be having pains like this.

“But I’m tired,” Stiles yells and rolls to muffle a disgruntled shout into his pillow, shoving up off of the mattress suddenly because if he doesn’t just do it all at once, he knows he won’t get up at all.

He throws on a pair of pajama bottoms and instead of heading for the shower, he opts for the kitchen and saunters up behind his mate, wrapping his arms around him, “You have a **really** nice ass, by the way.”

Derek narrows his eyes but leans back against the other man and smiles slightly as he pulls down things to prepare the pancakes, “So I take it you enjoyed it last night?” he asks rhetorically.

Stiles kisses between Derek’s shoulder blades and hums his agreement, “We should do that more often,” he says, smoothing his hands from the werewolf’s stomach to his hips.

“I didn’t even realize I was in heat,” Derek admits, “I’m not used to it, it’s different with you as my mate, compared to when we weren’t together. I’ve only had two heats and they’ve both been completely different from one another.”

“I’m a big fan of both,” Stiles tells him, “Not a fan of you, you know, being in pain and shit, but the whole super needy bottom and really aggressive top thing, yeah. Versatility is _nice_.”

Derek nods in understanding, “I don’t mind the heats, I just would like to be able to recognize what’s happening quicker. I don’t understand how it keeps happening. I think about pretty much the same thing every day, all the time, it doesn’t differ, much, I don’t get what was different about yesterday.”

“Being bombarded with a ton of personal questions maybe?” Stiles muses and taps Derek’s ass playfully before moving to the table, sitting down, “I dunno, there was a lot of discussion about having a family. Then there was the random blow jobs behind the building, not sure what could’ve triggered it.”

Derek shrugs, “I didn’t have a heat the day I knotted you,” he says, “It doesn’t make sense to get it now and not then,” he turns the front burners on, looking at Stiles and leaning down to kiss him quickly before moving to the refrigerator.

“Who knows,” Stiles shrugs and licks his lips, watching his mate move around the kitchen, “If there’s a next time, try to warn me as soon as you start feeling different. I probably could’ve taken better care of you last night if I’d known sooner.”

“It just feels…” Derek moves back to the counter with the eggs and bacon as he glances at Stiles, “ _Anxious_ \- I want to touch you more, and be close. I don’t really think about what I’m doing, I just do it. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until… about **now**.”

“Pretty sure I realized you were more affectionate than normal, but I just chalked it up to you missing me or something due to your sessions with what’s her face,” Stiles says, pulling both of his legs up onto the chair.

Derek narrows his brows as he thinks about the questions he was answering, “When she asked me if I thought you wanted children…” he looks at Stiles and he’s not sure if he should feel guilty or not about how he reacted to the question.

He turns his back to Stiles, “I got aroused just thinking about it.”

Stiles perks up at that and stares at his mate’s back, biting back a grin, “Yeah?” he asks softly, “What about it arouses you?”

Derek tilts his head as he considers the question, “I don’t know, I… _all of it does_ ,” he admits, “Thinking of you taking care of a child-” he swallows tightly and shakes his head as he moves to the stove to start making pancakes.

“It makes sense,” Stiles says, eyes still following the werewolf’s movements, “I can’t watch you with kids without wanting to grow a uterus or something. I totally get it.”

The alpha nods, “I try not to think about it too often, I don’t know if that’s it, or if it’s something else that causes the heat,” he glances back at Stiles, “It was nice not having to do it alone this time.”

“Yeah,” Stiles smiles and scratches the side of his neck, “Pretty sure I have some kinda weird tail kink now, so thanks I guess.”

Derek smiles to himself as he flips the pancake, “I don’t think that kink ends with tails. You’ve been fine both times we’ve been close when I’ve shifted, and your scent changes.”

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I used to be obsessed with werewolves when I was a kid,” Stiles says, “I had an odd hentai phase, you should be grateful.”

“What’s ‘Hentai’?” the alpha asks in confusion as he glances at Stiles, turning back to start cooking the bacon and preparing the eggs.

“Um,” Stiles chuckles, “I think it’d be easier to maybe just give you some kind of visual description, so ask me again when we get to work and I’ll send you a link.”

Derek nods and continues cooking in silence, thankful that the pain in his backside, literally, is gone now. He makes Stiles’s plate and sets it in front of him, making a somewhat smaller meal for himself than he normally does - they don’t have much time for it all - and finally sits down across from the younger man.

Stiles looks up from the plate of food and grins at the alpha, “You really didn’t have to make every single thing I listed off,” He says, but he’s thankful the older man did, because he’s starving.

“I don’t mind,” Derek says as he starts in on his first plate, mixing things together and stuffing his mouth before asking: “So when was the last vic’s body found?”

“About a week or so ago,” Stiles informs him and eats as quickly as he can without making a huge mess, “We can go over the more recent one when we get to work.” He furrows his brows some, “Well, wouldn’t hurt to go over the one before that again, too, because I don’t think you were paying much attention last night.”

“I didn’t pay any attention,” Derek admits shamelessly, “I was in heat, I couldn’t think past your ass being settled in my lap.” He licks at his lips, “We might not have much time again today, I still have to go in and talk to the therapist about my absence.”

“We’ll have a little bit of time,” Stiles says optimistically, “If not, we can do it at lunch,” he shrugs and looks up at his mate as he chews, “You gonna miss me while you’re stuck with her?”

“All I’ll be thinking about is you, and knotting you,” Derek says to humor Stiles, even though it isn’t really just to humor the younger man, “So if I end up in heat again by the end of the day, I don’t think it’d surprise either of us.”

“If that’s the case, I’m thinking maybe I need to buy stock in red bull and Viagra,” Stiles chuckles and tries to hurry, because he **desperately** needs a quick shower before work, “You’re not easy to keep up with.”

Derek chuckles, “Well, I’ve only had two heats, whatever is triggering it - I doubt it would affect me _that_ often,” he tries to reason, “I’d never had it before… thirty-seven years without a heat and now two within a year. I don’t see it happening day after day, you should be fine.”

“You say that now, but when you’re begging for my dick later, I’m just gonna say I told you so,” Stiles snorts and stands up when he finishes, moving to plant a sloppy, wet kiss to his mate’s cheek before taking his plate to the sink, “You gonna shower with me real quick, or..?”

Derek finishes his own food and stands up, taking the plates from the table and moving to the sink, looking back at Stiles, “If you start it up, I’ll be in there in a second.”

Stiles smiles slowly and nods before taking off towards the bathroom, leaving the door open as he turns the water on and waits for it to get hot, stripping down and moving to step in before pulling the lever.

Derek washes the dishes quickly, putting them away and walking to the bathroom, bending down slightly to take off his pajamas and step out of them. He winces as he feels an unusual, embarrassing wetness between his legs and sighs in annoyance before stepping into the tub with his mate.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asks and grabs for their loofahs, “You just sighed, why so huffy?”

“I’m… _leaking_ ,” Derek replies, lifting his brows as he wraps his arms around Stiles, “Thanks to you.”

“Should I have worn a condom?” Stiles asks in confusion and mindlessly offers the older man his loofah, “I-I didn’t-I didn’t know you wanted me to, I’m sorry.”

Derek rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss Stiles, “I’d prefer you **not** wear one,” he says as he lifts the younger man’s chin, “Don’t apologize.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums and presses up to kiss Derek again, “Maybe you shouldn’t act like it aggravates you then,” he points out, nipping his mate’s bottom lip and tugging on it some before letting go.

“I wasn’t, I was just pointing out that your seed is dripping down my legs,” Derek responds as he grabs the shampoo, standing back upright and pouring some in his hand.

“Can I see?” Stiles asks suddenly and he grimaces at the way it comes out, all mindlessly anxious, “I-I mean, turn around?” he requests hopefully.

Derek tries not to react _too_ visibly at how the boy’s words affect him, swallowing tightly and turning around, arching his backside to Stiles.

Stiles licks his lips and tries not to let all the bare skin get to him too much, stepping forward and pressing his lips to Derek’s back as he reaches down tentatively, ever so gently pressing his fingers between his mate’s ass cheeks and he groans at how wet it is, the tips of his fingers sliding into the werewolf almost effortlessly, “Wow.”

Derek tenses, eyes widening and he lets out a soft breath, trying **still** not to react to what Stiles is doing, “Yeah,” he says, voice tight as his cock twitches. It’s more than frustrating how often he gets aroused by Stiles, constant, even when they don’t have the time to deal with it, “Like I said.”

“God that’s hot,” Stiles mumbles and presses his fingers in completely for a moment, wiggling them within the heat before pulling them back out and forcing himself to step away, “You’re still loose, I fucked you pretty good, huh?”

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek groans and growls, turning around and moving close to the younger man, pulling him in and staring down at him, “You shouldn’t tempt me, I’m having a hard enough time forcing myself to go to work today.”

“I wasn’t trying to tempt you,” Stiles tells Derek and his heart races slightly at the older man’s tone, lifting his hand to touch the werewolf’s chest, “I just-I dunno, I wanted to feel me inside of you..?” he shrugs.

Derek takes up the shampoo again, lathering it up and scratching his fingers through the younger man’s hair, “We’ll have to do it again, when I’m not in heat.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods numbly and steps even closer to the alpha, resting one hand against Derek’s waist as he brushes his lips over the older man’s right nipple, “I definitely wouldn’t mind.”

“When I’m facing you,” Derek says, lifting his brows and washing the shampoo from Stiles’s hair, “Or _riding_ you,” he teases, smirking.

Stiles whines at the visual and frowns up at Derek, “Can we just call off today?” he asks, “You can’t just say something like that and not expect me to be hard all day long.”

“You’re the one sticking your fingers inside of me,” Derek responds, “How did you expect **me** to react to something like that? You deserve your day long boner.”

“You gonna take care of it when we get home tonight?” Stiles quirks a brow and nips at the nipple now, tugging the little bud with his teeth before pulling back, “Otherwise, I might be forced to rub one out in the bathroom at work and… I know you’ll be able to hear me.”

“If you can hold off until after work, yeah, if not-then you can wait,” Derek says as he narrows his eyes, grabbing the body wash, “We’ll see.”

Stiles snags the body wash from Derek and lathers up the loofah, scrubbing it all over his mate’s skin, “I can try, I dunno. It’s gonna be difficult, now that I’ve got that visual in my mind.”

Derek chuckles, “Well if you want the visual to become a reality, I’m sure you can try _harder_ ,” he takes the loofah back to scrub Stiles down, “That’s entirely up to you.”

“I might be able to pull it off,” Stiles nods, “I have pretty decent self restraint sometimes, but… out of curiosity, if I were to jack off in the bathroom and maybe moan your name a few times, how would you react to that?”

Derek frowns and shakes his head, “I… I’m not sure,” he tries to think about it, “I might not react **well** , I’m not sure.”

Stiles reaches up and smooths his mate’s frown out, thumbs pressing softly against the corners of Derek’s mouth, “Maybe we could test the theory, just… not at work. Who knows? Maybe it’ll end in mind blowing sex.”

“It might be safer to attempt it at home,” Derek agrees, taking Stiles’s hands and kissing his fingers, “Later, though, it can wait for now.”

Stiles raises a brow at Derek and steps back to wash himself down, making sure all the soap is out of his hair, “Speak for yourself, because if we’re at home and I suddenly have the urge to touch myself to see how it affects you, I’m gonna do it, big guy.”

He moves the curtain back some and gets out, “Try to hurry, we’re gonna be late.”

Derek watches Stiles as he rinses himself off, narrowing his eyes as he reaches back to clean himself _out_ and tries to avoid wincing at the dull ache. It doesn’t makes sense that he’s still feeling pain from the day before, unless he’s feeling something left over because Stiles is his mate.

* * *

Stiles had told Derek to remind him about the hentai, but he doesn’t really need to be reminded, because since it was brought up, it’s all he’s been thinking about. He’s anxious to see his mate’s reaction to it, unsure if it’s going to be well received or not. It’s not easy finding something, though, especially not with a few other agents in the office, but he waits until he’s sure no one is behind him and searches through hentai-foundry.com, indecisive over which picture he wants to link the werewolf.

The one he settles for is pretty straight forward and he figures Derek will get the point. Glancing around once more to make sure no one is watching, he attaches the image to an email and sends it to the older man, trying not to smirk as he waits for his partner’s reaction.

Derek opens the email, lifting a brow as he clicks the link and he stops, back straightening as he looks at the [image](http://www.hentai-foundry.com/pictures/user/TemporalWolf/126198/Werewolf-Picnic) and his head tilts slowly, his mouth drying as he looks past his screen to Stiles, “What’s this?”

“Hentai, big guy,” Stiles says and chuckles lightly at the fact that he rhymed, amused by his mate’s bewildered expression, “Pretty nice, huh?”

“What, it’s…” Derek looks around and closes the image, “Lude art?” he asks in confusion, trying not to think so much about what he just saw.

Stiles sighs then and nods, smirk fading some, “Yeah, it’s lude art,” he confirms, “And congratulations, that makes you sound like a prude old man.”

Derek frowns, “Why does that make me sound like a prude? That’s what it is - pornographic art of werewolves,” the alpha says as lowly as possible as he looks down at the papers in front of him.

“Okay,” Stiles says, letting out a heavy breath before pulling the two latest cases out, “But it’s not just werewolves, though. Had a feeling you wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Derek narrows his brows at Stiles’s response and rolls his eyes, “Are you taking it personal that I don’t understand the appeal?”

“No,” Stiles responds, “You wanted to know what hentai is, that’s it. Lude, pornographic art,” he repeats the older man’s words.

“And you were obsessed with this when you were younger?” the alpha asks, “You were obsessed with looking at sexual depictions of werewolves knotting humans?”

Stiles isn’t sure what kind of answer Derek is looking for, but he doesn’t want to lie, so he nods, “Yeah,” he admits, “Does it make you think any less of me?”

Derek shakes his head as he considers it, it’s not like Stiles at a younger age would’ve been able to look up _real_ werewolf knotting pornography, considering that doesn’t exist, so art **would** be the next best thing. He’s actually somewhat surprised that someone thought to draw those things, and well. He hunches slightly to open the link again and stares at it silently.

Stiles watches Derek for a moment as his partner stares at his screen, then he clears his throat, “We don’t have a whole lot of time before you gotta go, so… you wanna look over these with me or not?”

Derek glances up to Stiles once more, “We need to,” he agrees, closing the image again and standing from his seat, moving it around to Stiles’s side and sitting down beside him, taking the top one from Stiles and opening it, “We’ve got about an hour.”

“We’re not gonna find anything new,” Stiles mumbles to himself, “It’s always the same shit, over and over again. It would’ve been better if you could’ve been there, maybe your wolfy nose could’ve picked up something I couldn’t.”

“I doubt it,” Derek admits, “He knows the FBI is looking into his case, **and** he’s getting better at what he’s doing. Slipping up wouldn’t be done at this point, unless he makes the unfortunate choice of picking a girl that can defend herself.”

“And the closest that’s even come to happening was with… Courtney Fulks.”

“Yeah, she knocked over the couch,” Derek mutters aloud, “She could’ve gotten away, she almost did… I’m not sure if it was just because he was too confident and didn’t expect her to fight back or because she was just naturally stronger.”

“I dunno,” Stiles shrugs and rolls his chair a little closer to Derek’s, “Part of me kinda wants to see him try and take down a girl who like, secretly knows karate or something. And then, there’s another part of me, that doesn’t wanna see him try and take down anyone at all. He’s already killed too many.”

Derek nods in agreement, “It’s bittersweet most of the time, dealing with serial killers, waiting for the next body in hopes of finding more clues, but not **wanting** there to be another body,” he looks at Stiles, “It doesn’t help when the victims are younger people, high school students.”

“They could all be older people and it’d probably still affect me the same,” Stiles admits, “I don’t do so hot with dead bodies in general. Kinda makes me question why I even got into this line of work.”

“Because the FBI is overrated,” Derek mutters, “Shows and movies make it look completely different, romanticizing something that’s typically paperwork, and you don’t expect dead bodies to be that bad, either - until you actually see one.”

“I’m better with the whole… Figuring things out part and as much as I hate it, the paperwork,” Stiles rests his hand on Derek’s knee, “Maybe I should’ve been a PI,” he snorts, “There’d have to be less bodies, right?”

Derek nods, “I think you’d be a Hell of a PI,” he says before he can stop himself and then smiles slowly, “That’s what you do - figuring things out.”

Stiles smiles affectionately back at his mate, “If Whittemore wasn’t watching us right now, I’d kiss you,” he says, eyes dropping to Derek’s lips for emphasis.

Derek glances at Stiles’s lips as well, clearing his throat before he looks back down to the file in his hands, “So… about the Hentai...”

Stiles chuckles at the sudden change in topic and he raises a brow, propping his elbow on his desk, “What about the hentai?”

“You-” Derek tries to think of how he wants to ask the question, pursing his lips for a moment, “Looked at werewolf knotting porn before you even knew that they were real?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says softly, watching his partner’s face, “Weird, right?”

“I don’t know,” the alpha admits and shrugs, “I probably would’ve, if I knew it existed… what I find weird is that I managed to mate someone that has that sort of past.”

“It’s kinda serendipitous,” Stiles says, squeezing Derek’s knee before pulling his hand away, “But also weird. Definitely weird.”

“It’s like you’re living out a fantasy,” Derek says and shakes his head, “Something you wanted? And now you’re one of the few humans that’s experienced it.”

“I’m lucky,” Stiles grins, but he looks at his mate seriously after a moment, “But you know I’d love you just as much if you were human, right?”

Derek lifts a brow, “I wouldn’t be myself if I was human,” he says as he shrugs, “You don’t have to say something like that to me because you think it’s something I want to hear. It isn’t. I imagine it’s… an added bonus, but it’s also part of me.”

“I was trying to have a moment with you,” Stiles groans, the corner of his mouth twitching up, “But no, mister big bad alpha werewolf has to be allergic to emotions.”

“I’d love you just as much if you weren’t human,” Derek responds somewhat stiffly, “Does that make sense for me to say?”

“Even if it doesn’t make sense, it’s still a touching sentiment!” Stiles flails a little, “And that’s the whole point.”

Derek watches Stiles and then leans in to kiss him, not particularly caring if agent Whittemore is looking or not, “You’re an idiot,” he says as he pulls back, “I get what you’re saying, but you’re still an idiot.”

Stiles leans in when Derek pulls back and kisses him again, not even close to being satisfied with just the one kiss, “Yeah,” he agrees, heart racing some as he sits back and smiles at his mate, “But I’m **your** idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” the alpha confirms, looking back down to the file once more, “So apart from the more violent blows to the victim’s face and shoulders, and the message he left to you, the fifth wasn’t that much different from the other four?”

“Nope,” Stiles shakes his head and sighs as he looks down at the file in front of Derek.

Derek flips through the pictures, sighing in annoyance because he’s come to the conclusion that he won’t find out anything more than what they already know. He hands the file back and moves his seat around once more, glancing at the time and rolling his eyes, “This better be the last full day of this therapist, or I’m gonna end up killing her.”

“No you won’t,” Stiles says surely and looks at his mate from across their desks, “Just think about me… and you riding me, or me riding you. Just think about me,” he repeats again, smirking.

“I don’t think that would help,” Derek responds as his cheeks heat and he stands up from his seat, “I’ll be back for lunch?”

Stiles nods and shuffles papers around on his desk, “I was thinking tacos and blowjobs today, yeah?” he asks, purposefully trying to get his mate riled up.

“Shut up, Stilinski,” Derek says as he grabs the papers in front of them, putting them away before leaving his desk, walking by Stiles and brushing his fingers through the hairs on the back of the younger man’s head as he passes.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	16. The Sixth Vic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
> 
> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Stiles busies himself with paperwork and about half an hour before lunch, Derek’s phone starts ringing. He looks around then with wide eyes, unsure of whether or not he should answer it. Considering it’s his partner’s phone, though, he doesn’t really see what the big issue would be, so he gets up and moves around to the werewolf’s desk, sitting in his seat before grabbing the receiver.

“Agent Stilinski speaking,” he says hesitantly, “Agent Hale’s partner, what can I do for you?”

Stiles swallows tightly when the dispatch on the other line tells him about another body, the sixth, and she gives him the address before he hangs up. He picks up his mate’s holster and snags the coat off of the back of the chair as he grits his teeth, he moves back to his desk to grab his own things, turning his monitor off before heading to the elevator.

He tries to find some kind of silver lining in the whole situation, so if anything, maybe he’ll be able to save his mate from a few infuriatingly invasive questions.

Once the elevator doors open, he heads to the therapist’s office by memory, pushing the door open without knocking and he puts his hands on his hips, grinning tightly at the bitch of a counselor, “I need my partner,” he says, glancing at Derek.

Sybill looks at Stiles and frowns, pressing her lips together, “What do you need him for? Can’t it wait?”

Derek looks at his partner as well, his narrowed brows softening as he unclenches his fists and visibly relaxes.

“To wipe my ass,” Stiles deadpans, “And no, it can’t wait. We’re agents, what do you think I need him for? Dead body, let’s go,” he looks at Derek then and gestures to the door.

Sybill glances down and starts writing, her pointed brows lifting as she shakes her head, “Come back in tomorrow morning, the same time, Derek.”

Derek rolls his eyes and stands up, walking to Stiles and motioning for him to turn around so that they can leave, “Thanks,” he mutters under his breath, even though he knows it’s not like they can schedule a random murder every time he’s stuck in a session with the therapist from Hell.

“Don’t thank me,” Stiles says, looking back at Derek with a weak grin, “Thank the fucking creep we’ve been trying to catch, it fits his MO.”

Derek chuckles, reaching out to put his hand on Stiles’s lower back as he guides his mate out of the office, shutting the door behind them as he takes his things from his partner and leans in to kiss the top of Stiles’s head, “I was seconds from ripping her head off, you couldn’t have come sooner.”

Stiles looks at Derek suggestively and drops his voice an octave as he reaches out to hit the button for the elevator, “Wanna bet?”

“Hmm?” Derek asks in confusion as he puts on his holster and his coat, glancing down at Stiles as they wait.

Stiles snorts at the older man’s ignorance and shakes his head, grinning to himself and stepping into the elevator when the big metal doors open for them, “Nothing, big guy.”

Derek follows in after Stiles, narrowing his eyes as he watches the younger man closely, still confused about the comment.

Stiles props himself up against the far corner of the elevator and looks at Derek pointedly, pocketing his hands and arching his hips out, “You said ‘you couldn’t have come sooner’,” he says slowly, repeating the alpha’s words, “To which I replied ‘wanna bet?’” he watches the werewolf’s face, waiting for the flicker of understanding to dawn across his features, “I dunno how you don’t understand what I’m getting at here, baby.”

Derek shakes his head slightly, still confused for a moment and then the smile drops from his face and he swallows tightly, watching Stiles and narrowing his eyes as he reaches back to stop the elevator and moves to the younger man, wrapping his arms around Stiles’s waist and pulling him in close, “You’re gonna end up getting us in trouble soon enough, saying things like that at work.”

Stiles reaches up automatically and tangles his fingers in the back of Derek’s hair, all but yanking him down for a heated, bruising kiss, pushing up into it and groaning, “Can’t help it,” he breathes, licking into his mate’s mouth anxiously, “I’ve been worked up since this morning, feeling how wet and warm you were around my fingers, still all fucked out from last night.”

“ _ **Stiles**_ ,” Derek says as he leans lower, one hand grabbing the back of Stiles’s neck as the alpha pushes him back against the wall of the elevator and lifts him off his feet, wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist, his other hand under the younger man as he takes Stiles’s tongue between his lips, sucking the wet muscle into his mouth.

Stiles whimpers and clutches at Derek’s hair, tugging at the soft tufts as he tries rocking his hips the best he can from this angle, stiffening his tongue and curling the tip against his mate’s upper lip, “Can’t stop thinking about it, really just wanna fuck you again.”

Derek growls and runs his tongue around Stiles’s, his hips all but bucking against his partner as he tries to keep himself at least **somewhat** aware of their surroundings, fingers curling in Stiles’s hair as he breaks the kiss and drops his head, scenting his mate’s neck.

“Oh God,” Stiles groans and shivers bodily, trying his hardest to rut against the alpha, “Fuck, love it when you do that,” he says, cock all but leaking in his slacks, “Tell me-tell me what I smell like?”

Derek figures he’s scented Stiles enough and thought over the boy’s smell for long enough that he can compare it easily to things, but the words are still difficult and he feels like he needs to explain it first, “It’s not one scent,” he breathes as he reaches down to grab Stiles’s hips, pulling him in grinding the fronts of their pants together, gasping as he feels the younger man’s erection through the slacks.

“It’s nothing particular, but it’s warm, spicy, minty,” he looks at the younger man, “Sharp,” he says as he smiles slightly, “It’s almost painful to scent you, sometimes.”

“Painful?” Stiles whispers and leans in to kiss his mate, mouthing desperately out along his bearded jaw as he whimpers softly, blunt fingernails scratching against the back of the werewolf’s scalp, “Then why do you do it, baby? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“It’s hard not to,” Derek tries to explain, “It’s… somewhat like… when you’re cold, and the only thing you have is something that’s too hot to touch,” he chuckles and tilts his head into Stiles’s fingers, “It’s a good kind of painful.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums and grazes his teeth against the juncture of his mate’s jaw, moving to nibble on Derek’s earlobe as he breathes heavily, “Derek,” he whines impatiently, “God, we’re horrible.”

“Hmm?” Derek breathes out, his hips thrusting against Stiles’s, shifting and rutting against the younger man as he tries to understand what his mate’s saying, “What do you mean?”

“The body,” Stiles explains in a huff of breath, trailing his tongue down beneath Derek’s ear and biting into his mate’s neck, sucking the warm skin into his mouth.

Derek gasps as Stiles bites him and the alpha tilts his head for the younger man, baring his neck as he shrugs, “It’s not going anywhere,” he says as his hand moves to run up Stiles’s back, wanting to push under his shirt but knowing that they can only do **so** much for now.

“Point taken,” Stiles mumbles after he pulls off of his mate’s neck, tongue lashing out over the mark he left and he grins when it doesn’t just up and completely fucking disappear, “Need to just-at least get a hand around my cock or something,” he complains, wiggling to get Derek to let him down and his hands move for the werewolf’s belt almost at once.

“How you wanna do this? W-What do you want? You want me to pull you off, blow you… finger you **while** I blow you?” he gets the pants open and drops to his knees, “Yeah, let’s just do that real quick.”

Derek narrows his brows, reaching down to help Stiles get his holster off again, his left hand reaching up to run through the back of the younger man’s hair. They keep getting too sidetracked at work, the first couple times he didn’t even glance or think much about it and now he’s completely beyond caring about it at all.

“Spread your legs a little, you’re too tall,” Stiles says, nudging his mate’s knees apart some as he reaches into Derek’s slacks and pulls his cock out, mouth practically watering the second he smells the werewolf’s musk. He shoves two of his own fingers in his mouth quickly at first, getting them dripping wet before pushing them back between the older man’s ass cheeks, grinning up at his partner as he smears his open mouth along the side of the thick shaft.

Derek stares down at Stiles, nails scratching along the back of his mate’s neck as he tries to keep himself level with the younger man’s mouth, his shoes pressing against the floor of the elevator as he watches Stiles and arches his hips as he feels the fingers behind him.

The fact that Derek’s hole still feels a little puffy from the night before shouldn’t arouse Stiles as much as it does, but he can’t help it, knowing he did that to his mate pleases him infinitely. He swirls the pads of his fingers against the rim, tongue tracing out along one of the veins on Derek’s cock as he pushes the first digit in, groaning pitifully at how the entrance just takes him in.

“Ah,” the alpha says and shifts suddenly as he feels the slight sting from Stiles’s fingers and his brows narrow, his body still feeling worn from the day before - **still** , which he doesn’t understand, and he’s not use to feeling ‘after effects’ of sex.

His fingers tighten in the younger man’s hair, “Careful, it’s sensitive.”

Stiles suckles the plush cap into his mouth and quirks a brow at Derek, very carefully sinking the finger in deeper, pulling it back out and teasing the hole as slowly as he can, trying not to hurt his mate, “Am I hurting you?” he asks, breath gusting over the werewolf’s length.

Derek’s entire body shakes as he looks at Stiles and feels the breath on his cock, “It’s fine, it’s just… it hasn’t-it’s fine,” he settles for, not sure how it would pass if he told Stiles that he’s not sure if he’s healing properly or not.

Stiles nods but he resolves to keep his finger still inside of the heat, straightening up to sink his mouth down onto the older man’s cock, the thrill of having the girth against his tongue and pressing against the back of his throat making his own length twitch in excitement.

Derek reaches down with both hands, remembering what Stiles had said from before as he grabs the younger man’s neck and jaw, pulling him in carefully at first, his hip arching as he stares down at his mate, eyes narrowing and he lets out a shaky breath as he watches Stiles’s soft pink lips taking in his length.

Stiles’s arousal spikes the moment Derek begins pulling him in like he had the day before, unable to control the way his body reacts to the ministration. There’s just something about it, about the thought of his mate using him that gets him so hot and bothered. He removes the hand he’d had firmly wrapped around the base and clutches at the werewolf’s thigh for balance, other hand still pressed behind his partner’s balls, forefinger moving slowly as he pumps the digit in and out.

Derek all but winces at the strong scent of the younger man’s excitement, his hands shaking as he tentatively pulls Stiles in. He’s still not use to doing this, unsure of just **how** much Stiles is comfortable with and how much he can take, he tries to gauge the smaller man’s facial expressions and his scent as he arches his hips forward, pressing his knot against Stiles’s plush lips.

Stiles whimpers and tries his hardest to open his mouth further for his mate, eyes flitting up to meet Derek’s as they water, his own cock throbbing and leaking pre-come, all but soaking his boxers. He curls the finger inside of the werewolf just as he tries to sink down further on the knot, wishing more than anything that his partner could just… knot his fucking mouth or something.

The alpha pulls Stiles back off him, letting out a shaky huff of breath before holding his mate more firmly and he pushes his shoulder blades back against the elevator wall, keeping the younger man’s lips against the head of his cock before he arches into Stiles’s mouth. His eyes widen, not just at the feeling of it, but the visual and he almost comes, but manages to will it back, hips moving carefully back and forth, his entire body trembling every time he fucks into the younger man’s mouth.

Stiles’s fingertips curl into the older man’s thigh, chest heaving as he shifts his knees some to keep his position comfortable. He’s so excited and so aroused by it all that he practically forgets to move the finger sheathed by his mate’s heat, attention too rapt on the way the werewolf’s cock head feels when it nudges the back of his throat, making him moan and arch his own hips forward against nothing but the air between them.

Derek moves quicker still, one hand grabbing the back of Stiles’s neck, his other trying not to squeeze his mate too tightly, just in case he hurts him. He’s almost exhausted just from having to be too careful, but that seems to be part of what’s the most exciting about Stiles, having to hold back, being careful, even though he wants to knot the other man’s mouth or fuck into him with abandon. He thrusts faster, holding Stiles’s mouth down against his knot each time and he lets out a sharp breath the fifth time he does it, keeping his mate as flush against him as possible as he comes.

Stiles’s eyes widen and he gasps slightly, feeling the warm, bitter fluids shooting down the back of his throat and he swallows, staring up at the werewolf to watch how blissed out he looks for the few seconds he’s coming. It’s no wonder he likes sucking the guy’s dick so much, especially when the alpha makes the faces he does - he’s fucking beautiful like this.

Derek pulls Stiles back off him, lifting the younger man from the ground and pulling him in, kissing Stiles’s swollen lips and licking into his mouth as the alpha’s hands drop to run over his chest and waist.

Stiles reaches up with trembling hands, one grasping at his mate’s shoulder as his other glides up into the back of the werewolf’s hair, chest still heaving from having his mouth fucked.

“I didn’t get too rough, did I?” Derek asks when he pulls back, hands reaching down to the front of his partner’s pants, his right palm brushing against Stiles’s cock as he looks into his mate’s eyes, “I wasn’t sure.”

“It was fine,” Stiles reassures him, shuddering when he feels Derek’s hands pressing against his length, “It was… **fuck** , it was more than fine - it was awesome.”

Derek chuckles and unbuckles the younger man’s pants, “Good,” he says against Stiles’s mouth, lips wrapping around the soft cupid’s bow and sucking on it as he reaches into his mate’s boxers, fingers wrapping around his cock.

“D-Derek,” Stiles utters quickly and narrows his brows as he stares at his mate, dick throbbing in the werewolf’s hand, “It’s not-It won’t take much… so… be prepared, I guess.”

“I know, I can tell,” the alpha says as he looks at Stiles, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear, “I want you to do the same to me,” he responds, voice low, and then he pulls back, giving Stiles a pointed look before he drops to his knees, pulling Stiles’s cock out of his pants and opening his mouth in wait.

“Oh God,” Stiles whines, heart racing as he stares down at Derek, “How is this even my life?” he asks rhetorically and moves forward some, one hand reaching up to grip the top of his mate’s hair, his other steadying the base of his length before pulling the werewolf’s mouth onto it.

He’d go easy, take it slow with Derek, but he knows he can’t, not with as close as he is already. Besides, the older man’s a werewolf, so if he doesn’t like it, he can always just… pull away. Without waiting for Derek to get used to it, Stiles draws back and fucks back in again as he yanks his partner’s mouth onto him, pulling him in by the nape of his neck as he grunts, balls taut and aching.

Derek’s somewhat surprised by the younger man’s brass, more confident with them forwardness, but he’s more than okay with it. He relaxes his shoulders and calves, letting Stiles pull him in with ease and he can understand the appeal from _both_ sides now, why his mate gets so excited when Derek does it to him.

Stiles is relentless with his thrusts, mouth gaping as he pants and stares down at Derek, watching the way the older man takes him perfectly. His fingers curl in his partner’s hair and if it were anyone else - and not an alpha werewolf - it’d probably hurt a little, “Holy fucking shit,” he groans, whimpering pitifully as he pulls his mate flush to the base, holding him there as he comes, “I-I-I…” he brushes the older man’s hair affectionately with his palm now, finally pulling back to let him breathe, “Oh my God, I love you.”

Derek licks his lips as he swallows, standing back up and fixing his own pants before reaching out to take care of Stiles’s as he leans in and presses his forehead to his mate’s, “I love you, too,” he says as he buttons up Stiles’s pants, finally meeting the younger man’s eyes again.

Stiles smiles and pulls his mate in for a quick, breathless kiss, “We should’ve been on scene like, twenty minutes ago,” he says, making sure they both look okay before he reaching out to get the elevator moving again, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he glances at the older man.

Derek shrugs and runs his hand through his hair before putting back on his holster and fixing his shirt and his coat, “It’s fine,” he says dismissively.

“Yeah, guess so,” Stiles agrees and furrows his brows at himself, somewhat concerned that he’s slowly becoming desensitized to everything, because who the fuck can even think about orgasms when there’s a dead body at a crime scene they should be at.

Derek watches Stiles as he straightens up completely and the doors open once they reach ground floor. He touches the younger man’s lower back, guiding him out of the elevator and walking him to the car, “You okay?”

“Are you gonna leave it alone if I say ‘yes’ and my heart still blips or something?” Stiles asks in response, looking up at the older man for his answer.

Derek shrugs, “No one is ever ‘okay’, even when they say it and mean it,” he responds, “I’m just making sure it’s not something that needs immediate attention.”

“It’s not,” Stiles confirms, “But thank you for being concerned anyway,” he grins and pushes up to peck his mate on the cheek, then moves to unlock the jeep.

Derek walks around to the passenger’s side, “Alright, but if it gets to that point, it’s probably best not to keep it to yourself,” he sighs and shakes his head, “I need to stop seeing that therapist.”

Stiles chuckles and opens his door before climbing in, leaning across to unlock the passenger side, “Yeah you do, you’re starting to sound like Dr. Phil.” He starts the jeep and looks at his mate, “Dr. Hale, has a nice ring to it. Oh! Or-or Dr. Derek, I like that better.”

“Is that roleplaying?” Derek asks, raising a brow at Stiles as he steps up into the jeep, sitting and closing the door behind himself.

Stiles’s eyes widen, but he shakes his head, “No? I mean, not really, not unless you’re willing to wear a long, white coat and give me a physical exam.”

Derek nods silently as he puts on his seat belt, “Are you into those kinds of things? That’s not vanilla, is it?”

“Definitely not vanilla,” Stiles says as he pulls out of the parking lot, trying to recall the address the dispatch had given him, “And I don’t really know if I’m into it or not, I’ve never done it.”

“Me neither,” Derek admits and sets his hands in his lap impatiently, glancing around the jeep, “I’m… not sure if it’s something I’d be into…”

“We could always try it sometime just to see?” Stiles offers flippantly, watching the road signs carefully so that he doesn’t miss his exit.

Derek mulls it over silently, not sure what _all_ roleplaying would entail, but considering the things they’ve already tried together - most of which has been accidental - he’s open to trying it out, “Okay.”

“Look at you,” Stiles says proudly, grinning to himself as he takes a left, then glances over at his mate, “Being all adventurous and shit. Who knows, maybe it’ll be fun?”

“Everything else has been,” Derek says flatly, though he wouldn’t use the term ‘fun’ to describe it all, “Neither of us has much experience with things like that, I don’t see why it wouldn’t be worthwhile to at least try it out.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods in agreement, “I could like, get a really naughty looking nurses outfit or something with a short skirt.” He looks over at Derek and lowers his voice, “Would you like me to handle your scalpel, Doctor Hale?”

Derek’s eyes widen at the comment and he looks at Stiles, cheeks heating at the visual the younger man supplies him with, “We shouldn’t be talking about this right now…”

“Okay,” Stiles laughs and parks on the other side of the street, parallel to the crime scene, “Okay, okay,” he sighs, still smiling, “You’re right, let’s go.”

Derek climbs out of the jeep, closing the door behind him and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he meets his mate around the other side, walking towards the crime scene and ducking under the tape. He flashes his badge to the cops on scene, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he moves to the front door of the house.

Stiles stays close to the werewolf and leans in closer after they step inside, “It’s really good to have you back,” he says sincerely.

Derek nods in agreement, glancing down to Stiles as he puts his badge back in his pocket and then stills to look around the front room, stopping and tilting his head as he scents the air carefully, moving into the living room.

Stiles watches his partner curiously and follows him, “You smell something?” he asks.

“Yeah,” the alpha says as he walks to where the coffee table has been shifted, a few things knocked over, including a small fish bowl. He reaches into his lower pocket to pull out a spare glove, putting it on quickly and reaching under the lazy chair.

“What is it?” Stiles asks and narrows his brows, watching the older man as he reaches beneath the furniture, realizing that this is exactly why he missed having Derek around for the last two crime scenes - because the werewolf **can** pick up things that he can’t.

Derek lifts his brows as he manages to get his fingers on a **few** things and pulls back, opening his hand and looking at the broken pair of glasses, a crumpled piece of paper, and a wrist watch. He reaches into his pocket for the gloves he keeps for Stiles, handing them over as he stands back up, holding the items out to his mate and waiting for the other man to take them, “I can smell his scent on them.”

Stiles pulls the gloves on quickly and takes the items, staring at Derek with wide eyes and a small grin, “As in his actual scent and not just his… you know?”

“That too,” Derek says as he frowns, “But there’s more than that, it’s…” he glances around before lowering his voice, “Much stronger, something he keeps on him most of the time.”

“The watch, the glasses?” Stiles asks and examines the things, “Are these his?” he straightens out the piece of paper and frowns, handing it back to Derek so he can look at it.

Derek pulls on his other glove and takes the glasses, scenting them as subtly as possible before eying the blood on the glass of the right side where it’s broken, “Her blood,” he says lowly, “She cut herself.”

“We need to go look at the body,” Stiles says then, “See if maybe she fought back. If she did, I seriously hope the poor girl at least blacked his fucking eye.”

Derek smiles at the comment, taking a few evidence bags and putting away the glasses, the watch, and the piece of paper before guiding Stiles to the back room. He can’t help agreeing, it’s that same, familiar bittersweet feeling to see a victim that fought back enough to give them something to work with, only to have to look at their **body** next.

He keeps his gloves on, turning into the bathroom quickly, frowning at the state of it before looking at Stiles, “I’m getting a feeling that we don’t wanna see the body.”

Stiles frowns as well and looks past Derek to get a glimpse of the bathroom, the shower curtain all but torn down and spatters of blood here and there, “Yeah,” he agrees quietly, “But we kinda have to, it’s part of the job. Come on.”

Like Stiles has to comfort Derek in the slightest, chances are he’s seen worse than what he’s about to. He walks past Stiles, into the back bedroom, thankful that others have already cleared out to give them space to work. While everything is as it should be, with the plant between her legs, her chest broken open and her heart on the bed, there are some minor differences.

She’s a little bigger than the other girls have been, in _every_ aspect, nearly six feet tall, hair dyed red, piercings removed from her nose and her eyebrow. She definitely went out with a fight, and there’s a clear, fresh cut on her left hand, just under her thumb.

“She’s so different than all of his other victims,” Stiles says as he crouches down next to the body, looking her over thoroughly before glancing at Derek, “He must be getting pretty brave. Either that or… maybe he just wanted more of a challenge.”

“I think he overreached a little,” Derek says thoughtfully, “He didn’t get very excited with her, I guess he didn’t like that she hit him, and almost made it out alive…”

“Wish she would’ve,” Stiles mumbles to himself and stands back up to look around the room, wondering why the music isn’t playing, but he just chalks it up to whoever got their first probably turned it off.

Derek tilts his head as he looks at her neck, frowning because he can smell seed, but it’s not where it normally is. He reaches down and shifts back the potted plant before clearing his throat and backing up, “He had sex with her.”

“B-But he never has sex with them,” Stiles says and just the knowledge kind of makes his stomach roll, “Oh God, I think I might actually get sick.”

Derek glances at Stiles and swallows tightly, “It’s a similar case, but the differences are unusual…”

“Why-” Stiles shakes his head and scrubs a hand over his face before moving more towards the door, “Why would he start changing everything now?” he asks, trying to look at Derek without actually looking at the door, “I need to step out for a minute, is that okay?”

“Do you want me to come with you, or do you wanna be alone?” Derek asks softly, turning to look at his mate in concern.

“I’ll be fine, you can stay,” Stiles tries to reassure Derek, even as he grimaces and gestures vaguely to the body, “I just-I can’t, just give me a minute,” he says and leaves the room altogether, stepping out of the house and sitting down on the front steps.

Derek listens to Stiles leave and covers the rest of the room quickly, looking over things and then checking the other rooms before joining his partner outside, sitting down by him and watching Stiles for a moment, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbles and looks up at Derek from where he’d just had his face against his hands, “Yeah, it’s just-I think I got so used to the crime scenes being a specific way, you know? The guy is always so methodical and I-I just wasn’t prepared for that, I don’t think.”

Derek nods in understanding, “I have a **few** theories as to why he’d change it up, but we might never know for sure - unless we catch him, and he’s willing to talk. We need to question who we can while it’s still early, there’s a girl standing out past the tape waiting for us, refusing to talk to anyone that isn’t an FBI agent - I guess she saw us come in.”

Stiles nods as well and stands up, drawing in a deep breath before looking down at Derek, “Let’s get it done,” he says, rubbing his hand over the back of his mate’s head before walking down the steps.

As much as Derek wants to reach out and comfort Stiles in some way, it’s **more** than inappropriate in their current setting. He stands and follows after his mate, ducking under the tape and glancing around at the group of people watching and waiting, but the girl he’s been overhearing walks directly to them, a cigarette in her hand as she stops and looks between them, more to Stiles than to Derek, though.

“You guys are FBI?” she asks Stiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles responds and narrows his eyes curiously at the girl, “You got something for us?”

“I wanna see badges first,” the girl replies shortly, lifting her thin, purple brows, “I’m not saying anything until I know you’re the real deal.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but obliges.

The girl nods, “You tell me that’s Shar in there, and I’ll help you find the man that killed her.”

Stiles looks at Derek for a moment, because he knows he’s not supposed to divulge civilians with that kind of information, but he’s too intrigued and he wants to catch this guy.

Looking back to the girl, he nods subtly, “Sharon Lottrie, yeah,” he confirms.

“Was she a friend of yours?” Derek asks first, “You’re not family.”

“I’m her girlfriend,” the girl responds, taking a short, quick puff of her cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stepping it out, “I’m not **completely** sure, but we met this guy like a week ago, his name was Lawrence,” she reaches into her bag, rummaging around in it, “I took some shots and stuff, I got him in a few, he was also in a couple vines,” she takes out the photos and offers them to Stiles, “That’s him, right?”

Stiles swallows tightly as he looks at the images, both inexplicably excited over a lead this good and terrified all at the same time, “Yeah,” he tells her, the composite is pretty bang on, “Yeah, that’s him.”

The girl nods and glances at Derek, “I thought it was him, he fucking freaked us out,” she looks at Stiles, “Kept asking about her nose job and why she did it, kept giving her this look. I’m Kelly,” she says then, offering her hand to Stiles, “Kelly Puri, you guys can catch him with this shit, right? I at least gave you something you didn’t have before?”

“We’re gonna try,” Stiles tells her as he takes her hand, shaking it and glancing down at the phone again, “This is probably one of the best leads we’ve gotten so far, I could probably hug you right now.” He lets go of her hand and scratches the side of his neck, looking back towards his jeep, “Would you, by chance, be willing to come in and make an official statement so we can get these pictures out?”

“Yeah,” Kelly says at once, “I’ve got more information, though, not just the pictures,” she glances at Derek again, “Your partner’s kinda stiff,” she observes.

Derek narrows his eyes, but doesn’t respond, just to humor her.

Kelly nods and looks back at Stiles, “The guy drives an ugly fucking tan colored Honda, with a bent in left side and worn out tires. We bumped into him on seventh, just by that little ice cream shop, you know? He was in there, I think he was waiting for us.”

“He probably was,” Stiles says to Kelly and gestures towards his jeep, “Come on, the sooner we get all of this down, the better chance we have of catching this fucking creep. We’ll bring you back afterwards, or get you a taxi or something.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	17. Babysitting Take Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
> 
> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek finishes the buttons on Oliver’s onesie before lifting him up and holding him carefully as he sets the wipes and diapers aside before taking the seat beside Stiles, “They get big fast,” he observes, looking at his mate.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, still grinning from watching the older man change Oliver’s diaper, brushing his fingers through Heidi’s hair from where she’s asleep, all nuzzled against his side, “You’re gonna be a really good daddy,” he tells his mate affectionately.

Derek feels his cheeks heat at the comment and rubs his hand soothingly over Oliver’s back as he smiles, “It’s nice to have practice beforehand,” he says, trying not to react too obviously to what Stiles said, and then he crosses one leg over the other, sitting Oliver up in his lap and staring at the baby as he stares back at Derek with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that way we won’t really be going into it blind,” Stiles says, watching the two of them, “I’m pretty sure the only downside to babysitting is the fact that it just-it kinda makes me want a family right **now** , you know? But this is-it’s good, it’s good for us.”

“We’re too busy to be able to commit fully to a family, too,” Derek responds, smiling slightly, “It’s new - the relationship, you can barely keep your hands off me to work, the last thing we need is children involved in that.”

“I know,” Stiles says and narrows his brows at his mate, “Trust me, I know. But it doesn’t hurt to think about it or to long for it.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Derek says, even though he disagrees, somewhat, but there’s no harm in his partner thinking about it and longing for it - it’s actually nice to know that it’s something Stiles **does** want, now. The alpha leans down, tickling Oliver’s sides as the baby giggles and reaches up to get a hold on his beard.

Stiles watches and when Oliver grabs a hold of Derek, the visual makes his heart stutter. And if he actually had a uterus right now, it’d probably be aching, longing to be stuffed full of his mate’s pups. His hand stills in Heidi’s hair when his eyes flit to the older man’s neck and he raises a curious brow, “What’s wrong with your neck?” he asks, somewhat worried.

Derek glances at Stiles as Oliver pulls on his beard hairs, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve got like a-a… it’s like a nasty looking bruise,” Stiles tries to explain, reaching out with his other hand and pushing down the collar of the werewolf’s shirt to get a better look, “It’s uh, it kinda looks like a hickey,” his eyes widen at that and he notes the teeth marks, “Oh my God, it is, b-but _how_?”

“From when you marked me?” Derek asks and shrugs, he saw it that morning when he was trimming. He’s not sure _why_ it stayed, but it’s not like it hurts, “It’s fine.”

“It’s fine?” Stiles snorts incredulously, “Whatever, dude. It’s awesome. I-I can like…” he hums suggestively, but doesn’t really elaborate, “You think it’s a mate thing?”

Derek nods, “That’s my best guess. I’m not sure if that’s actually the case, but it’s likely,” he says as he turns back to Oliver, smiling and leaning in to brush his beard against the boy’s cheek, making him giggle even more and flail wildly.

“Easy, baby,” Stiles says and reaches out to touch Derek’s forearm, “You’ll give him beard burn or something, I don’t wanna have to explain that to Lyds.”

“I **am** being careful,” Derek says as he looks at Stiles, “I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“I know you wouldn’t, but have you seen your beard lately?” Stiles asks and grins, reaching to scrabble his fingers against it, “You’re about due for a trim.”

“I trimmed this morning,” Derek responds, lifting his brows and leaning in to Stiles’s fingers.

“I find that extremely hard to believe,” Stiles says and grins wider at the way his mate reacts to his touch, “If you don’t stay on top of it, you’re gonna end up looking like some sort of mountain man.”

He’s silent for a moment, but then he humors the thought and raises a brow, “Then again, that might not be so bad.”

Derek rolls his eyes and lifts Oliver above his head, “I’m not hairy enough **already** , for you? You need more fur?”

Stiles almost chokes on his tongue at that and his eyes widen, then soften, and after that he grins suggestively - the myriad of different expressions all at once making his face hurt, “I like your fur,” he says lowly, thinking about how it clung to his sweated skin during his mate’s heat.

Derek smirks at the tone of Stiles’s voice as he gently tosses Oliver up a little and catches him, “I know,” he says as the little boy giggles loudly, “I noticed that,” he looks at Stiles, “I like that you like it.”

Stiles grins wider, but then he clears his throat, because they need to change the subject, “You think he’s hungry?” he asks, motioning to Oliver, “And do you think I should lay her down? I just don’t want her to end up with a kink in her neck.”

“I’ll get her,” Derek offers as he moves to hand Oliver over to his mate, standing up and reaching down to pick up Heidi, keeping her close as he moves to take her into the guest room.

Stiles picks Oliver up and stands up to move into the kitchen, baby perched on his hip as he bounces him, “Alright, Ollie, what’re you feeling, huh?” he knows the baby won’t answer, but it’s just the principle of the thing - he likes talking, “You want bananas or some of that yucky squash your mommy said you needed to eat?”

Derek sets down Heidi in the bed, covering her up and moving back out, down the hall and into the kitchen, walking up behind Stiles and kissing the back of the younger man’s neck as he touches Stiles’s waist.

“Mm,” Stiles hums his contentment and turns away from the cabinet to kiss Derek, even as Oliver pats his cheek with his chubby little palm, “Okay, okay. I get it, no smooching,” he says, smiling as he pulls back from his mate, raising his brows at Oliver, “You happy now?”

Derek chuckles and leans in to press another kiss to Oliver’s cheek, moving around them to the counter, “Banana?” he offers, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, steadying Oliver with a hand to his little tummy, “We’ll give him the squash in a little bit.”

Derek nods as he takes one of the bananas, peeling it and grabbing a knife and a plate, slicing it down into little pieces before offering it to Stiles, “He likes the banana more, anyway,” he says and looks at the boy’s expression when he sees the plate.

Oliver’s eyes widen and he coos, arms flailing as he grunts and tries to reach for the plate, causing Stiles to chuckle, “Yeah, I’d say,” he takes the plate from Derek and moves to the table, setting it down before taking a seat, settling the baby onto his leg. He picks up a small piece of the banana and offers it to Oliver, touching it to his lips, “Here you go, little man.”

Derek sits at the table as well, watching Stiles and smiling as he reaches out to touch Oliver’s back, “You’ll make an even better father.”

Stiles looks up at Derek then and his mouth pops open, brows narrowing and he’s about to say something, but Oliver takes the opportunity to bite down on his finger while he’s distracted, “Ow,” he all but yelps, jumping slightly and pulling his finger away as the baby giggles.

“You denied the boy his bananas, you’re gonna get bit,” Derek responds and smirks, “He bit me yesterday.”

“Wasn’t denying him his bananas,” Stiles grumbles lightheartedly and gets another small piece, giving it to Oliver, “I was distracted for all of a second and he bit me. It’s your fault, you should kiss it better.”

“As far as he’s concerned, it’s the same thing,” Derek says as he looks at his mate, leaning over to take his finger and press a short, soft kiss to it.

Stiles grins so wide it almost makes his face hurt, then leans down to whisper in Oliver’s ear, “He’s a big pushover, huh? A big softy.”

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles, “I think Erica Reyes said something similar to you on your first day as my partner.”

“She was right, then,” Stiles muses and feeds Oliver some more banana, “Because you are, mainly just with me, but you definitely are.”

“You, children, people that aren’t stupid,” Derek says as he watches Oliver shake his feet in excitement and grab Stiles’s wrist, “It’s not my fault that that’s a **small** percentage of the human race.”

Stiles chuckles at Derek and wiggles his hand when Oliver gets a hold of his wrist, trying to keep the baby from gnawing on his finger, “True.”

“What kind of name would you give a pup?” Derek asks before he can stop himself, his cheeks flushing as he looks away from Stiles and Oliver, “Have you thought on it before?”

Stiles’s smile fades and he looks up at Derek, heart racing suddenly as he wets his lips, “Um,” he mumbles, mindlessly feeding Oliver, “Well, it would depend on gender, I think. But uh, yeah, I’ve thought about it.”

Derek tightens his jaws as he listens to his mate, of course Stiles has, he was with Heather for ten years and she clearly wanted children. The thought’s had to cross the younger man’s mind at least once or twice, “When?” he asks, just as a kind of follow up.

“Recently,” Stiles responds, watching his mate’s face curiously to gauge his reaction and bouncing his knee some to keep Oliver from whining.

Derek turns to look at Stiles then, trying to change the conversation, or at least make it less serious, “Would you name it something Polish? Like Przemyslaw?”

Stiles blanches when his mate says his real name and it’s so odd hearing the older man say it, because no one has actually said it in years. The last person who actually said his name was his mother, “Uh,” he splutters a little bit, honestly kind of impressed with the fact that Derek pronounced it right, “No,” he tells him, “Not polish.”

Derek chuckles at Stiles’s reaction and he licks his lips as he sits back in his seat, “People don’t say your name much, do they?”

“Or at all,” Stiles adds on, “My dad doesn’t even say it, it’s just-wow, so weird actually hearing it. Kudos on the pronunciation, though.”

“I looked it up,” Derek admits shamelessly, “I would’ve never guessed right, otherwise. It fits you.”

“It does?” Stiles asks in confusion, because that’s the first time he’s ever heard someone say his name suits him.

Derek nods, “Well, yeah, Stiles and Stilinski fit as well, but your **actual** name does, too,” he says thoughtfully, “Is there a reason you don’t go by it? Besides for the fact that no one could pronounce it.”

“Um, no, not really,” Stiles responds and rubs his hand over Oliver’s back when he’s done with the banana, patting the baby gently to burp him, “People just… tend to butcher it, so it’s easier to go by Stiles.”

The alpha stands up, moving around the table to Stiles, brushing his fingers through Oliver’s soft baby hair as he leans down and kisses his mate, “I would’ve, if I didn’t have a year to practice it.”

Stiles smiles and arches his neck, trying to kiss back the best he can from his seat, “You’re not gonna start calling me by it all the time, are you?” he asks curiously, hand stilling when Oliver burps.

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Derek says as he stands upright and takes the plate from the table, “Not if you prefer 'Stiles'.”

“I prefer 'Stiles',” Stiles says and stands up, hoisting the baby back up on his hip, “I’ve been called Stiles for the majority of the twenty-seven years I’ve been alive.”

“I’ve been called ‘murderer’ for the majority of my thirty-seven,” Derek responds, “That doesn’t mean that I’ll go by it, though.” He glances back at Stiles as he washes the plate, “It’s what you identify with, not what you’re called most.”

Stiles narrows his brows at the older man, “I identify with Stiles,” he says, kissing Oliver’s fingers when the baby grabs at his lips.

The alpha puts the plate away and joins his partner’s side, “Then that’s what I’ll call you,” he says as he smirks, “That… And ‘moron’,” he shrugs, “That’s what fits you most,” he reaches down, fixing the back of the younger man’s shirt.

“You know, if I didn’t already know how much you love me, I’d probably think you hate me,” Stiles muses and shakes his head at the older man, grinning weakly as he carries the baby back into the other room, “Did you wanna set up his pack n’ play in the bedroom? It’s getting kinda late.”

“Yeah,” the alpha responds, watching after Stiles for a moment, Oliver sitting in his arms and Derek’s eyes drop down to his partner’s ass before he swallows tightly and leaves the room, walking down the hall and into the bedroom to get everything set up.

Stiles gives Derek a few moments, waiting long enough for the werewolf to get the thing set up and the blanky put down in it, then he joins his mate in the bedroom, laying Oliver down in it gently before holding his hand out towards Derek, “Can you get me his stuffed bear over there on the chair, please?”

Derek picks up the stuffed animal and hands it over, walking past Stiles as he takes off his shirt and moves to the dresser.

“Thanks, baby,” Stiles mumbles and sets the stuffed bear down next to Oliver, smiling when the baby turns into it and hugs it, “Night, little guy,” he says and moves away from the pack n’ play, reaching down to pull his own shirt off.

Derek looks at Stiles as he toes off his socks, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants as his eyes run over the younger man’s body again, “When we take them home tomorrow, you wanna check out that ice cream shop?”

“Huh?” Stiles asks as he strips down completely, hopping his way into a pair of his pajama bottoms, “Oh, _the ice cream place_. Yeah, that sounds fine,” he nods, moving the crawl into their bed.

“After we drop them off, just in case,” Derek pushes his pants and boxer briefs down his legs before changing into his own pajamas and walking to the bed.

“Okay,” Stiles says and reaches out to his mate’s side of the bed, slinging the comforter back for him and wiggling closer in anticipation, wanting to snuggle close to the older man.

The alpha climbs into the bed, laying down and pulling Stiles in as he covers them both and leans in to kiss along his mate’s neck, “This time was easier than the last.”

“Yeah,” Stiles utters softly and reaches up to scratch his fingers through Derek’s hair, eyes fluttering shut as he arches his neck into the soft press of his mate’s mouth, “A lot more enjoyable, I think.”

“Mhm,” Derek breathes as his right hand runs down Stiles’s side, “Last time it was like we were arguing, even though we didn’t really talk at all,” he mutters as he sucks along the younger man’s shoulder.

“It was mostly my fault,” Stiles tells him quietly, body tingling as he tries to shift closer to Derek, “Stupid, pent up frustrations regarding children. It wasn’t really easy having an epiphany and suddenly realizing just how badly I want a family, especially when I was-I had been so sure, positive even, that I didn’t want kids.”

Derek nods in understanding, “I know the feeling,” he says as he pushes down the side of Stiles’s pajama bottoms, grabbing the skin of the boy’s hip and pulling him in close, “It’s been a touchy subject for the both of us, too - that didn’t help.”

“I’m glad we’re over it,” Stiles says and his breath hitches, skin warming where Derek touches him, “Glad we got shit figured out. I hate arguing with you.”

“Me too,” Derek says as he scents Stiles’s neck, closing his eyes as his hand runs down his mate’s thigh, spreading his legs slightly as the alpha presses short, quick kisses over the soft moles on Stiles’s collarbone, “I don’t like it, either.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums and moves the hand in Derek’s hair down, touching the nape of the older man’s neck as he spreads his legs a little further, uncertain of where things are going right now but wanting to let the werewolf know he’s okay with whatever, “Lowell,” he says suddenly, voice soft, “If it were a boy, it means 'young wolf'.”

Derek starts to smile at the name, but his **own** wolf practically groans - it’s so pleased - and Derek opens his mouth, turning to suck the skin under Stiles’s ear, “And a girl?”

Stiles smiles as well and his entire body is thrumming, hands clutching his mate close as he tries to turn his head some to whisper into the werewolf’s ear, “Accalia,” he tells him, kissing the edge of Derek’s jaw, “Pretty much means 'she-wolf'. We could call her 'Lia'.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Derek says as his hand moves from Stiles’s thigh, reaching up to run over his mate’s stomach, “I like them,” He mutters as he looks Stiles in the eyes and kisses him.

“Good,” Stiles says and kisses back eagerly, “I’m glad, really **really** glad, actually.” It’s bad enough he’d been considering names, especially when the prospect of having a family is so far off, but he takes solace in the fact that his mate likes the names.

Derek’s palm smooths over the smaller man’s belly before reaching back down into his pajama pants, taking Stiles’s soft cock and stroking it, his tongue lashing out to run over his mate’s lips, “So am I - that you think about it **that** much,” the younger man has no clue how pleased it makes Derek’s wolf, to imagine Stiles sitting down and looking into names in relation to terms about **him**.

Stiles whimpers softly and his lips part, length beginning to harden in Derek’s large, calloused hand, “Derek,” he breathes, brushing their noses together before kissing the werewolf again as his hips lift from the bed a little.

The alpha growls low at the sound of Stiles’s voice and he jerks the still somewhat flaccid length, feeling the slick head once he pushes back the younger man’s foreskin and Derek looks at Stiles, watching his cheeks turn red and he reaches down with his other hand to cup Stiles’s balls, gently massaging the flesh between his fingers.

The way Derek growls causes Stiles’s skin to break out in goosebumps, shivering against the older man and his length twitches, “So fucking hot when you do that,” he says mindlessly, head rolling back against the pillow as he fights the urge to moan aloud in fear of waking the kids up.

Derek pulls his hand back then, pushing the pajamas down a little further so that they don’t get bunched up. He reaches out and takes Stiles’s hand, wrapping those thin fingers back around his mate’s cock, Derek’s covering them as he turns into Stiles’s neck, “I can tell,” he says as he guides the younger man’s fingers, “Your scent spikes up when I do it.”

“This is hot, too,” Stiles squeaks lowly, wetting his lips as his hand pumps his length, looking down between them to watch the older man guide him in the dark of their room, “Fuck, Derek.”

“Mmm,” Derek hums in response to the tremulous sound of Stiles’s voice and he chuckles lowly, “Good?” he asks, even though it’s clear just how much the younger man likes it. He scents Stiles’s neck again, the hand cupping his partner’s balls moving up his stomach and chest to pinch and roll Stiles’s right nipple.

“Oh God,” Stiles gasps and nods, and if it weren’t for his mate guiding his movements, his hand would probably be completely still right now, because it feels _too_ good, “We um-” his cock twitches and he lets out a soft groan, “This needs to be like, mutually beneficial.”

Derek lifts his brows and turns to drag his teeth along the other man’s jaw, “It already is,” he says, and Stiles probably would never understand just _how_ mating works, but it’s more than mutually beneficial, just doing this - although he’s tempted to just fuck Stiles, as long as the younger man can keep quiet, it should be fine.

“Yeah, I get that,” Stiles whispers, “I understand, pleasing you makes me feel good, too, but…” he smooths his free hand down the front of the werewolf’s chiseled chest, fingers just barely dipping down past the hem of his pajamas, “I want you to get off with me.”

“No,” Derek stops and grabs Stiles’s wrist, “Not like that,” he lets out a huff of breath and presses his lips to his mate’s neck, reaching out then to grab the lube from just under the leftmost pillow with one hand as he pushes Stiles’s pajamas off completely.

“How do you wanna do it then?” Stiles asks and eyes the lube, making sure he keeps his voice low, because there’s a sleeping baby not even ten feet from them.

Derek considers the question and, for as many times as they’ve fucked, there’s one **obvious** position they haven’t had sex in yet (at least not in a completely consensual, loving way). He pours the lube on his fingers, reaching behind Stiles and rubbing the tips of them between the younger man’s cheeks as he lowers his voice, “In my lap, I want you to ride my knot.”

Stiles lets out a weak, indiscernible whine and nods almost at once, “Yeah, okay, that’s-yeah, let’s do that,” he agrees, entirely too eager as he spreads his legs wider for his mate.

Derek smirks at the sound of Stiles’s voice all shallow and breathless, his middle finger slipping into the younger man as he nips along his mate’s neck, “You’ve gotta be quiet, though, you think you can do that for me?”

“Mhm,” Stiles hums and grips the nape of Derek’s neck, breaths coming out in short, heavy puffs as he wiggles his hips down some, wanting more of his mate, “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good,” the alpha says as he pushes in a second finger, “I don’t wanna have to gag you,” he adds and works the fingers in and out of Stiles carefully, spreading them apart and scissoring them inside his mate.

“Oh **fuck** but you could,” Stiles whines, hole clenching down around the werewolf’s fingers, “I seriously wouldn’t mind,” he says, knowing he probably won’t be able to keep quiet anyway.

Derek blinks at the comment, though he probably shouldn’t be surprised at how eager Stiles is for it, considering the boy’s oral fixation. He pulls his fingers back, laying down on his side of the bed on his back and pushing his own pajama bottoms down his thighs before lifting a brow, “Come on.”

Stiles moves quickly and he’s never been more thankful for a quiet bed than he is right now, slinging a leg over the older man’s waist and settling himself down against the werewolf’s bare skin. He leans down at first and kisses his mate, the corner of his mouth pulled up into a lopsided grin as he leans back and lifts himself some, taking the werewolf’s cock and guiding it as he starts to sink down.

“Always forget how big you are,” he grunts, mouth hanging open as the length stretches him.

Derek stares up at Stiles, one hand reaching out to grab the other man’s hip and offer support, the other reaching up Stiles’s stomach, fingers running through his partner’s happy trail as he wets his lips and watches with wide eyes.

Stiles doesn’t want to go slowly with this part, but he knows that if he doesn’t, the girth alone is liable to rip him, so he has to work himself down on Derek’s cock with patience. He looks down, his own dick hard and curved up towards his stomach, eyes raking along the miles of his mate’s skin laid out on display beneath him and when they flit up to the werewolf’s face, he can’t help the groan that escapes.

“Shhh,” Derek says softly, reaching up to cover Stiles’s mouth as he smiles and shakes his head, “What did I say?” he can empathize, though, he’s seconds from sobbing, himself - he’s just better at keeping completely silent. He didn’t prep Stiles as much as he normally would, but part of him wanted the tightness to be almost painful this time.

“Trying,” Stiles whispers harshly, wincing slightly as he pulls back up and lowers himself back down, taking more of the length this time. He moves his hands to Derek’s chest, right thumb brushing over his mate’s left nipple as he seats himself as well as he can for the moment, rim being tested by the alpha’s knot.

Derek breathes out shakily and runs his right hand up Stiles’s back, his left thumb brushing along the other man’s lower lip as he waits and looks over his mate’s body hungrily.

Stiles leans back down again after kissing his mate’s thumb, dropping wet, open mouthed kisses along Derek’s chest as he starts working his hips, thighs flexing as he fucks himself on the werewolf’s length, trying to get himself nice and lax before he even tries pushing down further.

Derek reaches back behind Stiles, grabbing the younger man’s left ass cheek as his fingers rest against Stiles’s hole, feeling his length as his mate moves atop him. His other hand drops down to run his fingers through Stiles’s soft chest hair as his toes curl and Derek growls low each time his partner drops back down onto him.

Stiles touches the hand on his chest, fingers curling around it before he brings it up to his lips and sucks two of the digits into his mouth, giving himself something to stifle the sounds he knows he’s probably about to make. He shifts his knees in closer and stares down at Derek, heart starting to race slightly, because it’s been a while since they’ve done **anything** knot related. He wants it, even though he hasn’t really been prepped much at all, so he starts grinding down, further and further each time, whimpering and moaning around his mate’s fingers as he feels his entrance stretch.

“Ah,” Derek gasps and drops his head back, feeling the pressure of Stiles’s body bearing down against his knot and his legs shake, length throbbing inside of his mate as his eyes water. It doesn’t help that they younger man has his fucking fingers in his mouth, sucking on them and _still_ making those little whimper sounds.

Derek’s reaction urges Stiles on, his own length twitching and dribbling pre-come from excitement as he whines around his mate’s fingers, forcing himself further onto the knot as his hips rock up and down. The only downside is not knowing how far he’s gotten and it’s too dark to look down and see, so he really doesn’t know how much more to anticipate.

The alpha reaches back around to the younger man’s front, taking Stiles’s cock and stroking it as calmly as possible considering the rest of his body is shaking almost violently, “ _ **Slower**_ ,” he says in a huff of breath as a tear drops down the side of his face.

Stiles pulls the fingers from his mouth and leans down far enough to kiss along Derek’s cheek, then just next to the older man’s eye where he saw a tear streak, “Does it hurt?” he asks lowly, slowing his hips for his mate, but still sinking down on the knot steadily.

“Not _exactly_ ,” Derek says as he wets his lips, “It feels _good_ , but yeah it’s… it’s kind of fast,” he mutters numbly, grabbing the back of his mate’s neck and pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbles breathlessly against Derek’s lips, resting himself a little more firmly against his mate as he kisses back, thighs starting to burn a little with exertion. There’s a dull ache from being stretched more than he’s used to, but it feels nice and he inadvertently clamps down around the knot just from thinking about it.

Derek gasps against Stiles’s lips, his hand moving back down to the younger man’s waist, guiding him down a little more and arching his hips up as he lets out a shaky breath, “It’s okay, it’s… like I said, it feels good.”

“It does,” Stiles agrees lowly and groans, dropping his lips down to his mate’s neck, darkening the mark he put on Derek the other day and making a new one just beneath it as he grinds down.

“You should… Do _more_ ,” Derek breathes out, smiling slightly and though he hadn’t thought much on what Stiles was capable of, before, the idea of it now is more than appealing.

“Hmm?” Stiles asks and pulls his mouth from Derek’s skin, eyes glazed over somewhat as he looks at the werewolf, “Like what, baby?”

Derek takes Stiles’s hand and puts it on his chest, lifting his brows suggestively as he continues stroking his mate’s length, thumb brushing under the head on each uptake.

Stiles’s eyes flutter for a moment and his cock twitches, but then he looks down at his hand on the alpha’s chest, still somewhat confused. He curls his fingers against the skin, though, and draws his hand down slowly, blunt nails making little pink lines appear on his mate’s skin as his eyes flit to Derek’s unsurely.

“Yeah,” Derek says, voice low and soft as he growls, his eyes flashing as he looks down at the little marks, his hips arching up to rub his knot against Stiles even more, “Go on.”

Stiles is intrigued, so it’s not like Derek has to tell him twice. He puts both of his hands on the alpha’s chest then, hips undulating against the werewolf as he smirks and scratches down the flesh **hard** , feeling some odd sense of pride when he sees thin little beads of blood form, “Fuck.”

Derek watches with wide eyes, “Yeah,” he agrees, nodding silently otherwise and he’s not sure if it’s considered to be a blood kink, what they’re doing, but he likes the idea of the marks being left on him tomorrow, and the day after.

“I like that I can do this to you,” Stiles admits when the scratches don’t automatically heal, cock leaking pre-come like a spigot, “Gonna start doing it more often, marking you up like you do me, make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

“I **am** yours,” Derek repeats, smiling and reaching up to the scratches, fingers brushing the cuts as he looks at the thin lines of blood, “Mark me all you want.”

Stiles grins at that and leans back, sitting upright in his mate’s lap and with a distraction like this - marking Derek more - it’s marginally easier to work himself down on the knot. He reaches behind himself slightly, eyes glued to the alpha’s face as he rakes his fingernails up the inner sides of the older man’s thighs.

Derek spreads his legs slightly when he feels the younger man scratching at them and his eyes all but roll back in his head, his hands grabbing Stiles’s arm when he feels his knot swell a little, “Wait-” he mutters, “Not… not yet, or I’ll…”

Stiles stills completely and looks at Derek in confusion, skin flushed and sweated and it takes everything he has not to whine, “Or you’ll what?”

“I’ll come,” Derek says, lifting his brows as he shifts his knot against Stiles’s backside, “Unless that’s what you want, you should stop, for now.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and he doesn’t really want to stop, but he will, because he doesn’t want Derek coming until he’s worked himself completely down onto his mate’s knot, “How much further?” he asks, pulling his arms from the alpha to lean back some, bracing himself with his hands on Derek’s knees, “A lot?”

“Yeah,” the alpha breathes, “It’s already swelled a little, it’s not gonna be easy,” he says as he rests his hands on his mate’s waist, “Just be careful.”

“I don’t have the patience,” Stiles tells him, letting his head loll back as he continues to lift himself up and down, brows notching together in concentration as he breathes calmly and pushes down a little further, “Just want you in me already.”

Derek nods, “Ride me, give it a breath,” he says as he guides his partner back up, trying to calm himself as well. His cock is practically _aching_ at this point, teeth clenching together as he breathes quickly out of his nose.

“I **am** riding you,” Stiles complains and leans forward again, busying himself by mouthing along the cuts on his mate’s chest while he fucks himself on the older man’s cock, “I should just-I should just take it, sink down,” he murmurs lowly, nipping at one of the welts, “And if I tear, I can have you take the pain away… with your tongue.”

“No,” Derek growls, running his fingers through the other man’s hair, “Just wait, don’t force it - it won’t be good for **either** of us.”

“And if we wait,” Stiles responds and looks up at Derek from where he’s licking along the older man’s chest, “It’s gonna take all night.”

“No it’s not, stop being an impatient brat,” Derek says as he jerks the younger man’s length once more, “Get off before taking it, it’ll be easier,” he slides his other hand down Stiles’s thigh soothingly, staring into his eyes.

“Keep your hand on my dick for longer than five minutes and I actually might,” Stiles retorts sarcastically, but he grins at the older man, moving up further and biting down around the alpha’s left areola.

Derek rolls his eyes, “It’s difficult to do anything with you grinding down on my knot, Stiles,” he says pointedly, pumping his mate’s cock quickly as his other hand rubs the inside of Stiles’s thigh.

“Are we arguing while we’re fucking?” Stiles asks probably a little too excitedly, soothing the mark around Derek’s nipple with his tongue, thighs burning as he continues to move, “Kinda like it.”

“You **would** ,” Derek says back, chuckling and arching his chest against Stiles’s mouth, “I didn’t realize we were arguing.”

“Mm,” Stiles hums and moves up to mark the other side of his mate’s neck, “We’re not, not really, s’just banter,” he utters, digging his teeth into the warm skin and groaning against it.

Derek fights back a gasp as he feels Stiles biting him and he tilts his head, exposing his neck more for the other man as his hand reaches down, teasing across the head of his mate’s cock, smearing the pre-come down the underneath and he rocks his hips a little.

“Derek,” Stiles gasps against the wet skin and his mouth hangs open for a moment, toes curling as he feels a mind numbing warmth radiate throughout his groin, “Squeeze a little harder, I’m close.”

“Mhm,” the alpha breathes through his nose, his hand tightening around the length slightly as he watches Stiles, trying not to get _too_ excited himself, otherwise the knot would get bigger and then it’d be completely impossible to do tonight, at least without more prep.

Stiles whimpers when Derek obliges and leans back again, staring down at his mate as he feels his orgasm near, “Baby, can you-” he gasps and wets his lips, “Can you um-” he stops again, because he doesn’t really know how to ask for it.

“Hmm?” the alpha asks, narrowing his brows, “Can I what?”

Stiles’s eyes rake over the werewolf’s face and he grins hopefully, “Shift… just a little?” he asks, trying to stave his release off a little longer.

Derek starts to move slightly before he realizes what Stiles is asking isn’t for him to shift, it’s for him to _shift_ , “Oh,” he says and smiles, changing as he watches Stiles, fur sprouting over his face as he eases his hold on the younger man’s cock, claws growing out as he tries to keep the shift at a minimal.

The change practically makes Stiles sob and he reaches up, pressing his fingertips through the fur on the side of his mate’s face, “D-Do the-do the eye thing, please?” he asks, chest heaving as he watches the werewolf.

Derek smirks and flashes his eyes a few times before keeping them red as he stares at his mate, smelling the sharp scent of the boy’s arousal as it spikes up.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles moans when the older man’s eyes stay red and he tenses, coming hard and all but doubling over against the alpha, gasping for breath as his hole clenches spasmodically around Derek’s girth.

Derek gasps and pulls Stiles off of him, laying the younger man on the bed beside him and crowding up behind his mate as he slides back in smoothly. His hands grab Stiles’s hips and pull him back as the alpha rocks his knot against his partner’s hole until it pushes in past the complete width and he lets out a huff of breath.

“ **Ah** ,” Stiles whimpers and reaches back, grasping at the older man’s hip as he tries to keep himself lax, “Derek, fuck.”

“I know,” Derek responds, reaching up with one hand to cover Stiles’s mouth, “But you need to keep quiet,” he says as he pulls the knot back out, his whole body shaking as he slams back in again.

Stiles yelps against the hand covering his mouth and he’s pretty sure he goes cross eyed for a second or two, body still thrumming from his own release and with his mate fucking him with his knot, it causes his length to twitch desperately.

Derek gasps as his knot pushes in almost completely and he drops his head against Stiles’s neck, biting the skin and pulling back out again. He’s close, _so_ close, and the sixth time he feels the entire knot sink in, he has to press his mouth against his mate’s neck to stop himself from howling. He holds Stiles flush against him as he comes, back trying to arch, but he fights the urge, letting out a weak, strangled sound against the other man’s skin.

Stiles groans out Derek’s name against the older man’s hand, but it comes out sounding so muffled it’s completely indiscernible, body vibrating with pleasure and he reaches down, hand smoothing over his slightly inflated stomach as he whimpers and breathes the best he can.

Derek pulls back finally, resting his nose just behind Stiles’s ear as he pants, the tears pouring down his cheeks as he collects himself and reaches out instinctively to touch his mate’s stomach, but he pauses and smiles when Stiles’s hand is already there, “I love you,” he says as he laces their fingers together.

“I love you so much,” Stiles responds quietly, still trying to catch his breath as he moves their hands around his belly, wishing that it wasn’t just Derek’s come causing the protrusion, but the older man’s pups instead.

“Me too,” Derek says, all but hearing Stiles’s train of thought as he pulls the younger man in as close as possible and covers them both up with the blanket. He turns and presses a soft kiss to Stiles’s hair, breathing calmly as he closes his eyes, “Hopefully… soon enough.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	18. Mint Chocolate Chip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
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> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek compares the photos to the area they're standing in, moving towards the small ice cream shop that Kelly had mentioned as he glances through the photos, narrowing his brows as he scents the air. It’s a long shot, of course, considering how long ago it happened and how many people pass through the area, but he figures it’s worth a try if it turns anything up.

Stiles watches his partner and leans closer to glance at the photographs, then looking up at the actual ice cream shop, “This is it, right? We should go in, see if any of the employees have seen the guy, maybe get them to keep an eye out or something. It wouldn’t surprise me any if he comes here regularly to find victims.”

Derek nods and walks into the store, holding the door open for Stiles as he looks around the place. It’s more than just an ‘ice cream shop’, there are other things as well - clothes, toys, candies, various other things - and he avoids the people standing near the far wall where the **actual** ice cream part of the store comes into play, taking to the opposite side instead.

“What’re you doing, babe, shouldn’t we be like, going over there?” Stiles asks with furrowed brows, gesturing to where the employees are scooping ice cream for customers.

“We’ll wait for them to clear out,” Derek says as he turns the sign by the front door around from ‘open’ to ‘closed’, moving through a few small, odd shaped aisles. It isn’t easy for him to do without knocking something over and he probably shouldn’t have worn his coat, but the last thing that customers need to see are feds walking through their ice cream shop.

“Careful,” Stiles says and moves to grab a bag of chips that Derek knocked off the endcap, “You’re like… like a bull in a china shop, sorta,” He chuckles and puts the bag back, “Werewolf in an ice cream shop,” He amends.

Derek rolls his eyes at his mate, “That sounds like the start of a bad joke,” he says as he scents the air, trying to block out the sweets as much as possible. It’s **also** a long shot, considering that as far as they know ‘Lawrence’ never went into the actual shop itself.

“Probably could be if I tried hard enough,” Stiles says vaguely, pocketing his hands as he follows the older man, watching him as he scents the place.

“Someone walked through here within the past two days wearing that horrible ‘fantasy’ perfume,” Derek mutters and shakes his head to try and get the scent out of his nose, then turns down the aisle with cotton shirts and candles in an attempt to alleviate it, “I don’t smell him at all, though.”

“Is everything else bothering your nose?” Stiles asks and looks his mate over worriedly, reaching out to touch his back.

“It’s nothing I’m not used to already,” Derek shrugs, feeling eased by his mate’s touch and he turns to look at Stiles, “The worse one are lollipops, that and cotton candy. But most smells I’m used to.”

Stiles nods sympathetically and looks around, making sure no ones looking before he pulls Derek’s head down and settles his mate’s face against his neck, “Just breathe me in for a sec? That’d help, yeah?”

Derek smiles slowly and scents the younger man, his right hand reaching up mindlessly to touch Stiles’s waist, “Mmm, yeah,” he says as he presses a kiss to his mate’s neck, tongue lashing out quickly to taste him before he straightens back up, “We should question them, scenting in here… I won’t find anything.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and smiles at Derek, reaching up to touch his neck before he begins to move towards where the employees are, the customers out of the shop now.

The alpha joins Stiles, taking his badge from his pocket and flashing it quickly, “We’re special agents Hale and Stilinski of the FBI, we have a few questions if you wouldn’t mind taking a moment to answer them.”

The younger woman on the left’s eyes widen as she looks between them, “Uh, sure…” she says as she glances at the sign by the door and frowns, “What’s up?”

Stiles pulls the phone from his pocket and goes to the pictures, holding it up for the woman to see the photograph of Lawrence, “Have you, by chance, seen this man around here lately?”

The girl looks at the image, her eyes looking from it to Stiles and she shakes her head, “Nope, can’t say I have.”

“I have,” the guy beside her speaks up, “Like some time two weeks ago or something? He came in early and bought a bottle of water.”

Derek lifts a brow, “In an ice cream shop..?”

“I know, right?” the guy says and laughs nervously, “That’s why I remember, I was like ‘who the fuck buys water in an ice cream shop’?”

“A serial killer, that’s who,” Stiles says dryly and levels the guy with a serious look, “If he comes in here again, give us a call, yeah?” he pulls one of his cards from his pocket and offers it to him.

“Sure,” the guy replies at once, taking the card and pulling his phone from his pocket to add the number.

Derek watches them, “Did he pay with cash?”

The guy nods, “Yup, that was also kinda weird,” he admits, “I’ve seen people use cards to pay for less but he was kinda an old fart, you know? I just figured that he was one of those kind that’s never touched a card in his life, right? So he’s like a serial killer or some shit?”

“Um, yeah,” Stiles nods and glances at Derek, “But seeing as you’re a male, you’re probably safe,” he says, then looks at the young woman, “And unless you’ve had a nose job, you should be fine too. Just-just call us as soon as possible if he comes back in here. He targets younger women.”

The girl takes the card from the guy and puts it in her pocket, “I’ll remember that - but this nose is mine, hundred percent,” she smiles as she looks between them, “So are you two like a thing? I mean, I saw you earlier, that’s cool.”

Derek frowns and narrows his brows before looking pointedly at Stiles as if to say ‘good job, genius’.

Stiles flails a little at the look his mate gives him, “What?” he asks incredulously, “It’s fine,” he insists, then looks back to the woman, “And yeah, we are, sorry for the PDA.”

“Are you kidding?” the third girl speaks up, “That was fucking hot, you guys want like some ice cream or something? Totally on the house, cuz like-” she motions between them, “Gay dude feds, right?”

“Free ice cream ‘cause we’re gay FBI agents?” Stiles asks, narrowing his brows at the girls, but then he grins wide, “Yeah, sure. Thanks,” he chuckles.

The girl smiles even wider and nods, “Well, why not, right? You’re hunting down this creepy serial killer and shit, why not have some ice cream?” she looks at Derek then, “Let me guess, mint chocolate chip?”

Derek narrows his eyes and nods silently, standing still as he watches her move to make it for him, grabbing one of the containers and then stopping as she sizes him up.

“I dunno, you’re a pretty big guy, you probably eat a lot of ice cream,” she says as she turns to Stiles, “Yeah, he probably eats you out of house and home, huh?”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Stiles responds with a grin and scratches the side of his neck, glancing at his partner affectionately.

“I also pay for the groceries,” Derek says shortly, looking back at Stiles, “ **And** I cook.”

The guy watching them laughs and nods to himself as the girl grabs a larger container, he turns to Stiles then, “That’s how you do it,” he says and leans in, “So I’m **not** psychic like Chelly, what kind of ice cream do you want?”

“Uh,” Stiles clucks his tongue thoughtfully and shrugs, “Surprise me,” he says, glancing at the young woman whose supposedly ‘psychic’.

“I get the feeling you like a **few** different kinds,” Chelly says as Stiles looks at her, “Bunny Tracks, Rocky Road, Cookie Dough, anything **really** sweet,” she looks at the man beside her, “Just don’t get him bubblegum flavored.”

Derek looks at Stiles because, while he knows a lot about his partner, he wouldn’t even begin to be able to guess if she’s right.

Stiles notices the inquisitive expression on the older man’s face and he nods, “Yeah, she’s right,” he says, incredibly impressed with just how right she is, “It’s kinda creepy.”

“No it’s not,” Chelly says, “You work here for ten years, you kinda see every sort of person there is to see. Although…” she looks at Derek, “I don’t often see bear men, that’s not too common - you’re like a house or something. **And** you’re a fed, although if you know agent McCall, he comes through here a lot with his daughter.”

Stiles perks up at that and all but leans forward on the counter, “You know Scotty? He’s like, my best buddy,” he says proudly, grinning at the woman.

“Stiles,” Chelly says quickly and laughs obnoxiously loud, “Holy shit - he talks about you all the time, you’re like th-” she stops and looks at Derek, “ _Oh_ , oh, so this is… Derek?”

Derek frowns even more and he’s not too comfortable with the fact that she knows them **that** well, “Yes.”

Chelly grins even wider, “Well, fuck me.” She puts her hands on her hips and looks at Stiles, “You two are pretty much celebrities to me, half the time Scott comes in here he’s talking to you on his cell phone.”

“That’s awesome,” Stiles says and beams, “Small world, am I right?”

“Not too small,” the guy says, interrupting them a little, “We’re the best ice cream shop around, and Scott has Heidi, so yeah - it’s not that small. So do you guys have like some wanted signs of that creepy serial killer?”

Derek takes the file from his left hand, flipping through it just as Chelly sets his ice cream in front of him, “Yeah,” he says, taking the copies he’d made and Chelly grabs them from him.

“I’ll go set these up outside, then. Chris,” she looks at the young man then, “Get Stiles some cookie dough ice cream.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to like, pay or something?” Stiles asks, because as awesome as free ice cream is, he still feels marginally guilty about it.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Chelly says as she walks around the counter, “We serve Scott for free, too - it’s a family run shop - and by family I mean me and my cats, and my niece,” she motions to the younger girl, “And her boyfriend,” she points at Chris, “Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles nods then and moves to stand a little closer to Derek, “If you say so, I’m not turning free ice cream down.”

Derek smiles slightly as the woman walks outside with the papers, honestly still a little surprised by the entire exchange, and then he takes the ice cream tentatively as ‘Chris’ hands Stiles his own, “Thank you,” he mutters and leads his partner out of the store.

Stiles nods and waves at the two behind the counter before taking his ice cream and following his mate, groaning as he takes a bite and purposefully bumps into Derek, “That was nice.”

Derek nods as well and looks at Stiles, “It was, but I don’t think you understand **just** how strange it was.”

“No, I do,” Stiles tells him, “It was fucking weird as hell, but it was still nice.”

“No, you don’t,” Derek says again, more insistently and lowers his voice, “I haven’t had ice cream in over **twenty** years.”

“Okay and..?” Stiles asks, not fully understanding why Derek’s making such a big deal out of it.

Derek huffs as he stands back up, “I crave it constantly,” he admits, “Out of that many different kinds, I don’t care how long she’s been working there, it’s a strange thing to guess right.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a guess, Derek, maybe she actually is psychic,” Stiles points out, “You’re a werewolf for fuck’s sake, it’s not that far fetched.”

“That’s what I mean,” Derek agrees, “The boyfriend said it as a joke, but I’m sure he was sincere. His heart beats didn’t change in the slightest. It’s… strange, is all - I’m a werewolf, yes, but seeing psychics is just as weird for me as it is for you.”

“I can tell, you’re kinda freaking out on me right now,” Stiles smiles softly at the older man and points to Derek’s ice cream with his own spoon, “Are you gonna eat it?”

Derek shrugs, “I guess,” he says, “It was a nice gesture, it’d be rude to waste it.”

“ **And** you want it, don’t lie,” Stiles nods knowingly, “Now that I know you crave it, I’m so gonna stock up on it.”

Derek narrows his brows, “If you were concerned about **you** gaining weight, I will if you stock up on this. Don’t,” he says as he moves to the passenger’s side of the jeep.

“You’d be cute chubby,” Stiles says and unlocks his door, climbing up in the best he can without spilling his ice cream, then he leans across to unlock Derek’s door, “You’d be even **more** of a bear, I’m not seeing the problem here.”

Derek doesn’t respond to the comment, opening his door and stepping into his side, sitting down and looking at Stiles as he shuts the door and settles the cold container in his lap before putting on his seat belt, “Is that what you want?”

“What?” Stiles asks in confusion and opts to sit there and finish his ice cream before starting the jeep, “What do you mean is that what I want?”

“For me to be thicker?” Derek asks as he raises a brow, taking his spoon and opening his own container.

“I don’t really 'want' anything,” Stiles says, having children with his mate is probably the only exception, “I was just saying, it wouldn’t matter to me. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

Derek nods silently, taking a bite of the ice cream and closing his eyes as he savors it. The last time he had it, his house was actually a **home** , complete with Laura trying to steal his bowl, and Cora asking for a bite as she tried to reach up to the counter.

“Good?” Stiles asks and nods at his partner’s ice cream, leaning closer and dipping a bite out with his spoon as he grins at the alpha, “Wanna try mine?”

“I could taste it in the store,” Derek says and shakes his head, “I don’t wanna try it.”

“Fine then,” Stiles scoffs without heat and eats the bite of Derek’s, humming to himself at the flavor.

Derek smiles slightly, “This tastes better than what I’ve had before,” he admits and shrugs, “It’s not the same, but it’s close.”

“Is putting on weight the only reason you don’t keep ice cream in the house?” Stiles asks and starts back in on his own, glancing over at his mate.

“No,” Derek says at once and then looks at Stiles as he takes a second bite. He’s told the younger man a **lot** of his past before, but he’s still tentative to just throw things out there and see how Stiles reacts to them.

“Okay,” Stiles responds softly, not prodding for more information, because he knows that if Derek wants to tell him, he will.

“I don’t keep candies or snacks at the house either,” the alpha supplies, “That’s why you got caught by Peter.”

“Why are you even bringing that up?” Stiles asks and frowns at the older man, “It’s done, it’s in the past. I made a mistake.”

Derek frowns as well, “I’m not ‘bringing it up’,” he corrects Stiles, “I’m making a point, there are reasons I don’t do certain things - candies, ice cream, snacks… beer.”

Stiles wants to argue the fact that the older man did, in fact, bring it up. The words left Derek’s mouth, he heard him with his own ears and saying it aloud is still considered bringing it up, but he bites his tongue, “Okay, and what are those reasons?”

The alpha motions to his nose, “When I wake up in the morning, I’m not in good control of my senses, most of the time it’s like being woken up, and then being knocked over the head by an airplane.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Stiles nods and scrapes the last of his ice cream out of the container, “We need to like, find a way to uh-to like, smell-proof a container of some sort, because the whole not having any sweets thing will be the death of me, I’m sure of it.”

“It’s worse during the full moon…” Derek admits and figures that if he tells Stiles, it might satisfy his mate, or even make him laugh, “When I started working for the FBI, they gave me this… welcome basket, I didn’t look at it, I put it in the garage and forgot about it, _until the full moon_.”

Stiles snorts and glances over at Derek as he sits the empty container between the front seats, “What was in it?”

“ **I** couldn’t smell it on my own, not even when I woke up every morning,” Derek explains, “But when I shifted during the full moon, and my senses were heightened, I didn’t know where the smell was coming from so I tore the house into pieces looking for it.”

Stiles laughs and has to brace himself with a hand to the steering wheel, “Yeah, I can so see you doing that, you’re pretty destructive. Oh my God, I would’ve paid to see it happen, wow.”

“It was a bag of those caramel cubes,” Derek says, making a motion with his fingers, “They were wrapped up well, I guess they don’t smell as strong as most candies, but I ate the entire thing whole, package and all.”

“Oh my God,” Stiles repeats again and his eyes well with tears, imagining a wolfed out Derek going frantic over the smell, “Stop, I’m gonna piss myself.”

Derek smiles as he watches Stiles and he nods, “I crave those sometimes too… but… that’s why I don’t keep anything that smells **strong** in the house, especially around the full moon.”

Stiles sobers up and wipes his eyes, sitting back in his seat and tilting his head to the side to stare at Derek, “So, hypothetically speaking, if I were to maybe hide some candy somewhere in the house, I’d probably get to see you go bat-shit in an attempt to find it?”

“If I don’t smell it beforehand, but I don’t advise it,” Derek says, “I knocked down my bedroom wall trying to find it, we don’t want that happening while you’re in the house, worse could happen.”

Stiles chuckles again as he imagines a crazed Derek busting through walls for candy, “Oh my God,” he says again, “I love you so much.”

Derek shrugs and smiles, taking another bite of his ice cream, “That’s also why I don’t go to bars, and every time I shop for groceries, I cover my face,” he shrugs, “It doesn’t help that everything I smell, I can taste as well.”

“What does the alcohol do?” Stiles asks, “Because I don’t imagine it’s like the candy or sweets. Does it just burn or-or does it like, get you stupidly drunk? The vapors, I mean, not the actual liquid.”

“Umm, no,” the alpha says, “It **does** burn, yeah, but I can’t get drunk.”

Stiles furrows his brows in confusion and his mouth pops open for a moment, “You’re joking, right? You actually can’t get drunk?”

Derek shakes his head, “No, I can’t get drunk at all. If I go into a bar, even with **that** much alcohol around me, I don’t get drunk. I just get a really bad headache, and my throat burns,” he shrugs as he offers Stiles some of his ice cream, “That’s why I reacted so quickly when you were stabbed, I wasn’t drunk at all.”

“Guess it really is the little things in life I should be thankful for,” Stiles mumbles to himself and leans closer, taking a bite of the ice cream, “Sorry for dragging you to the bar on more than one occasion.”

“It’s fine,” the alpha says dismissively, “I didn’t mind too much,” he admits then, swallowing tightly, “It was nice to see you outside of work,” and considering half the time in the bar was spent practically falling in love with Stiles _on scene_.

“Yeah,” Stiles says softly and grins at Derek, leaning over further to kiss the older man, “Same.”

“You were fixated on my shirt,” Derek says then, thinking back on it - the same shirt he lost that night because it was covered in his mate’s blood.

“Mmm,” Stiles hums as he remembers how tight it was, the older man’s muscles all but showing through the fabric, “Your pants, too. Your ass looked really nice in them.”

Derek chuckles and closes the container of ice cream, “You have an interesting obsession with that, too,” he points out, “You mentioned something about it after my heat, as well,” he narrows his eyes as he looks at Stiles, “Even then, when you were with Heather, you noticed my ass?” any time he thinks about Stiles’s reactions to his body, and the whole heat, he just remembers the spanking, and then he gets somewhat uncomfortable.

“I guess?” Stiles shrugs, “I’m not blind, anybody with eyes can see how nice of a body you have. I can’t be held accountable for a little innocent oogling.”

“‘Oogling’ is **never** innocent,” Derek says and shakes his head, “That’s why people do it, it may be a subconscious action, but any time I’ve looked at your ass I’ve never thought of innocent things.”

“Okay, so maybe my thoughts weren’t strictly innocent, but I was still kinda oblivious to the whole thing,” Stiles points out, “It’s hard not to look at you or check you out when you’re my partner, I spend a lot of time with you.”

Derek could continue to argue the tangent they’ve gotten off on, but he doesn’t bother, taking the file back up from his lap to glance at the photos once more, “We’ve got a lot of shit to do tomorrow morning,” he muses aloud, “The list of leads alone is insane.”

“We’ll get it done,” Stiles says surely and starts the jeep up, checking his rear view mirror before pulling out, “And we’re gonna catch this fucker, it’s good that we’re able to get actual photos out.”

Derek nods in agreement, “Ms. Puri didn’t have to give us what she did, it’s nice to finally deal with someone that isn’t an idiot. The description of the car was nice as well. She’s coming in Monday, maybe she’ll have more to give us.”

“Hopefully,” Stiles mutters distractedly, sighing to himself when he has to stop at a red light, “But she’s already given us a lot, so…” he shrugs.

“For someone that just lost her mate, she handled it well,” the alpha says as he watches Stiles, “Just as stubborn and determined as you are when you set your mind to something.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grins to himself and nods, “I think that’s why I like her so much,” he says and glances over at Derek, “Does it bother you that I’m like that? That I don’t really give up?”

Derek shakes his head, “Not at all,” he says at once, “That’s what attracted me to you most. The moment I heard Ms. Puri talking to the police, I could see the appeal - why she was with Sharon Lottrie - both of them were unique to this case,” he muses aloud, “Determined, strong-willed, and they’ve given us more to work with than anything else we’ve gotten so far.”

The alpha looks at Stiles, “I can relate to that personally.”

Stiles nods as he listens to his mate, figuring that maybe Derek’s talking about his family’s case, but he doesn’t pry or ask the older man to elaborate any. He just continues to drive, reaching out blindly with his right hand to rest it on the werewolf’s knee.

Derek covers Stiles’s hand with his own, curling his fingers between the younger man’s. It’s an interesting feeling, what he’s experiencing - it’s not often he **wants** to be at work - but he’s becoming more and more determined to solve this case and put these girls to rest, to get ‘Lawrence’ put away for good.

If the man had gotten away with five bodies, it would’ve just felt like another failed case to him, but now… after Sharon’s death, it’s beginning to feel personal in a way that he hasn’t felt about a case in a while.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	19. With Poetic Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
> 
> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

“So I uh… got somethin’ for you two,” Kelly says awkwardly as she sits at the conference table with Stiles and Derek, “I don’t know if what you already got was enough to catch this creepy fucker but uh,” she rummages through her bag, muttering to herself, “This might be the nail in the coffin.”

Derek glances at Stiles, as tempted as he is to say ‘I told you so’, because he’d had a feeling about this before, he doesn’t.

Kelly pulls the little book out and carefully lifts the photo from the last page before sliding it over, “I looked through about thirteen thousand pictures this weekend and found this.”

Stiles eyes widen as he pulls the photo closer and his heart starts hammering excitedly, looking up at Kelly incredulously before standing up and leaning across the table to pull her into a hug, “Oh my God, this is amazing. I-I-I need to-I need to go run this or something.”

He pulls back and looks at Derek, hardly able to contain himself, “Derek, it’s his license plate number,” he says stupidly, because he’s like a million percent sure the older man knows that.

Derek looks at the photo, trying to avoid reacting the way Stiles is, even though he’s just about there on the inside, “You’re in this picture,” he says as he looks at Kelly.

“Yeah,” the young girl says and shrugs, “After uh… the cops left and shit, I asked Shar’s parents if I could-you know, look at things. We both kind of take a lot of fucking photos and stuff, so I got all her film and her cameras from her car. After we talked before, I just felt like, you know, like I had to find somethin’ a little more concrete.”

“This is-it’s perfect,” Stiles tells her, still standing there with the photo clutched tightly in his hand, “Our chances of catching this guy just sky rocketed because of you, thank you.”

“Thank you,” Derek says as well and stands up, “We need-”

“I know,” Kelly responds and stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “You gotta catch a creep, I’ll go back downstairs and talk with the dudes down there, they have donuts. Just… uh, hey if it’s not like weird or anything, you know-maybe it **is** weird but I don’t fucking care, Shar’s funeral and shit is this weekend, if you guys wanna come?”

Stiles's expression softens some and he looks at Derek for a moment, then back to Kelly, “We’ll be there.”

Derek nods in agreement and raises his brows when she smiles, her eyes tearing up and she leans in to hug his mate.

Stiles hugs her again and rubs her back for a moment, “We’ll get him, okay?”

“You better,” Kelly says as she pulls back, wiping her left eye as subtly as possible and she looks at Derek, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hug you and make you feel awkward, big guy,” she smiles and excuses herself, “See you on Saturday, just drop by my house like… around noon.”

Derek nods and puts his hands in his pockets as she leaves, he looks at Stiles then, glancing at the photo in his hand, “... I like her.”

“Me too,” Stiles says at once, nodding fervently before looking up at Derek, “Let’s go run this,” he waves the photograph.

The alpha nods and starts to leave the conference room when his cell phone starts ringing. He narrows his brows, reaching out with one hand to continue to guide Stiles out of the room as he answers his cell, “Hale.”

Stiles glances at his mate, but continues back out towards their desks anyway, waiting for Derek to hang up so he can ask what it’s about.

Derek swallows tightly as he listens and he stops, his mouth dropping open as the color drains from his face.

Stiles stops as well when he feels the hand disappear from his back, turning to look back at Derek and his brows narrow worriedly as he mouths ‘what’s wrong?’.

“We’re on our way,” the alpha says numbly and ends the call, putting his phone away, “We don’t have time to run that just yet,” he responds as he grabs Stiles’s arm and leads him quickly into the office to get his coat and holster, his chest tightening nervously.

Stiles puts the photo under his calendar on his desk, grabbing his holster as well as he continues to watch the werewolf, concerned with the way he’s acting, “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, standing by his desk and waiting on the alpha.

Derek shakes his head as he glances around at the other agents watching them and he leads Stiles out to the elevators, lowering his voice and trying to dry the sweat from his palms in the pockets of his coat, “Seventh,” he mutters.

“Already?” Stiles asks in confusion, “Sharon was literally just-it was just the other day,” he says, still confused as to why Derek’s acting the way he is.

“I know,” the alpha says, waiting for the doors to open.

He glares at another agent standing there waiting as well and shakes his head as he pushes the floor button. Thankfully, the woman gets the hint at once, her eyes widening as she looks away and stays where she is as the doors close, “It’s… [Christy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1290580).”

“Christy?” Stiles asks at first, not really all that familiar with the name, but his eyes widen when he remembers who she was, “Shit…” he breathes, still watching Derek, “And uh-you’re not okay, are you?”

Derek clears his throat and straightens up, “She’s _sixteen_.”

“We didn’t know that,” Stiles says in an attempt to soothe his mate, “You didn’t know that, so don’t-I was gonna say to not worry about it, but it’s insensitive and I know you will anyway. But just… you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know that she was _fifteen years old_?” Derek turns to look at Stiles then, his eyes widening a little more, “ **Fifteen** , Stiles, _fifteen_ -” he stops and lets out a breath as he looks back to the doors and shakes his head, “And now she’s dead.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault,” Stiles says softly, wanting to touch the older man, but with how his mate’s acting, he’s not so sure that would be a good idea, “Don’t beat yourself up over it or over what happened before, it’s not like we asked for an ID.”

Derek swallows sickly and walks out of the elevator the moment the doors open, keeping his hands in his pockets as he tries not to think about it. He hasn’t thought of her in months, and while she didn’t **really** look that young, she was small, _very_ small, and painfully tight, “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Derek,” Stiles calls out for his partner and moves to catch up with him, going against his better judgement and reaching out to touch the werewolf’s back, “Hey, try to calm down, okay? If it’s this bad right now, how do you think you’re gonna handle the crime scene?”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek says and stops, glancing up to the second floor of the building and motioning to Stiles to look up as well, “We’ve got a cheerleader, I think.”

Stiles frowns at the first comment, but he turns and looks up as well, smiling sadly as he sees Kelly waving at them and giving them a thumbs up, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Derek smiles back slightly, trying not to think too much about victim number seven, watching as Kelly starts making motions with her hands and, though **that** doesn’t explain what she’s trying to say, he can hear the lip motions enough to get the picture.

“She thinks we’re going after his car,” he shrugs, because it’s close enough, “She wants us to…” he stops and shakes his head, waving to her and moving to the jeep, “She’s as bad as you are.”

Stiles furrows his brows and looks up at Kelly for a second, then moves to follow after Derek, “What’s she want?”

Derek shortens the explanation, deciding not to be as lude and detailed as she had, “She wants us to do to him what he did to Ms. Lottrie.”

“She wants us to kill him?” Stiles asks in confusion and unlocks the jeep, grunting as he leans across to let Derek in before starting the vehicle.

“Not _exactly_ ,” the alpha mutters as he steps in and closes the door.

“Okay then,” Stiles huffs out, because clearly Derek isn’t in the mood to elaborate and he, himself, isn’t in the mood to push. So he stays silent and pulls out of the parking lot, only speaking up when he realizes he doesn’t know where they’re going, “What’s the address?”

“Second,” Derek explains as he puts on his seat belt, “Just off Main, last house on the right.”

Stiles nods and follows the instructions, scrubbing a hand over his face just after he parks the car and then he looks at his mate, “Are you sure you don’t wanna stay in the jeep for this one?”

Derek shakes his head, “I’m fine,” he says stiffly and steps out of the jeep.

He moves to the house as a woman rushes out, nearly her entire front covered in blood as she flails and sobs and Derek backs up as she reaches for him, “Ma’am,” he says in warning, raising his badge as she starts shouting at him in Spanish.

Stiles frowns at the woman and watches her mouth as she speaks, trying to recall everything he learned in Spanish when he was in High School, “She’s saying it’s her daughter,” he says vaguely, then reaches out to touch the woman’s arm, “We know, but we need you to calm down, okay?” he says slowly, raising his brows at her.

“We’re FBI,” Derek says as the woman stops shouting, tears streaming down her face, “I’m agent Hale, this is my partner, agent Stilinski - we need you to go back inside with us,” he glances around the road nervously.

The woman stops finally, shaking her head and putting her face in her hands, “My baby,” she says as her arms tremble, “My Christy.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss, ma’am,” Stiles says and frowns at himself, because it’s not sincere and he knows that Derek’s going to know - and that, in turn, makes him feel guilty, “But if you could just step inside with us, there’s an ambulance and police on the way.”

Derek nods as the woman turns around to walk back to the house, sobs wracking her body and he reaches out to catch her when she trips on the steps, guiding her up himself and walking her to the living room couch as he glances at Stiles. The song is still playing, of course, the all too familiar lyrics playing over make him sick in a general sense.

“Stay here,” he says as he straightens up and reaches into his pocket for his gloves, handing over a pair to Stiles, “Don’t move until the cops come in to talk to you.”

Stiles takes the gloves and watches the woman nod as she takes a seat on the couch, pulling the latex onto his fingers and looking his mate over curiously, just to make sure he’s okay.

“My Christy,” the woman continues to say, “My baby girl, my baby girl.”

Derek watches Christy’s mother as he swallows and moves to check the front room where the struggle first occurred. There’s a hand’s smear of blood on the white couch, a spray pattern just next to it and some on the carpet.

Thankfully, they haven’t stepped into any of it, but it’s everywhere, more or less. The kitchen is in a state as well, like she had ran into it to get away, but had been caught. Her cell phone, one he remembers from before, is in pieces on the tile floor of the kitchen, just in front of a bunch of smashed plates and bowls.

The alpha turns to look at Stiles, “He’s either getting reckless, or he’s being careless on purpose,” he says lowly, so that the mother doesn’t hear. He doesn’t want her to overhear them talking about her daughter as if she’s a statistic. It’s bad enough that the woman’s in a state over losing her child, he doesn’t want to seem cold during her grief, “Each time, he’s struggling with them more and more, and… he still wasn’t as excited, these last two, hardly at all.”

“I don’t imagine he’s too fond of almost getting his ass handed to him,” Stiles muses, “Sharon looked like she could pretty well handle her own and Christy… I remember her well enough, she was small, but she was uh-I dunno, she had spunk I guess. I don’t see her going down without a fight.”

Derek nods, glancing up at the blood sprayed on the walls of the hallway and he walks around the trail on the carpeted floor, looking into the bathroom and sighing when he sees the state of it. Sometimes, it’s astounding how much blood is in the human body.

“She paid for it,” he says under his breath and moves to the back room finally.

It’s eerie how clean Christy’s body is in comparison to the livingroom, the kitchen, the halls, and the bathroom, her face and shoulders covered with bruises and wounds, her left arm clearly broken.

Derek stops looking at her then as he glances at the CD player and his heart all but skips a beat at the words written on the wall above it, in **her** blood.

‘ _Welcome back, Hale_ ’

Stiles lets out a shaky huff of breath when he looks at the wall as well, reaching up to touch his mate’s shoulder, “You still good?” he asks, because the last thing they need right now is for Derek to completely lose it or do something rash, especially when his partner is usually the calmer of the two when it comes to crime scenes.

“No,” Derek admits as he feels the tight lump form in his throat, pulling his eyes from the wall to look back down at the body.

While they hadn’t talked **much** after everything happened with the Blue Moon case, Derek would probably have considered her someone closer to him than nearly everyone in the bureau. Stiles obviously didn’t like her at all, but she had been nice to Derek, and she’d wanted him - which was something nearly everyone in the entire world **couldn’t** empathize with.

“Maybe you should go sit in the jeep and let me handle it this time?” Stiles offers his mate, not entirely able to empathize with what the older man’s feeling right now, but he doesn’t want the werewolf to be uncomfortable at all.

“No,” the alpha says as he tries not to let the pain show on his face, walking into the room, to the CD player, and turning it off, “I’m not okay, but I can do this,” he responds, throat a little rough and he starts looking over the desk, the things broken on it from where the killer probably had had to get up in order to write his message. An older man doing such a thing **after** killing a young woman must’ve been exhausting.

Stiles nods and crouches down next to Christy’s body, “Okay, but if you can’t handle it, just let me know,” he tells his mate, narrowing his brows at the blood underneath her nails, “Looks like she got him pretty good, check it out,” he says, lifting her wrist to show Derek.

Derek looks back and nods, “He must not look too good himself.”

He turns to the desk again, looking it over once more before moving from it, “He’s being knocked around by his victims each time now, chances are he barely had the strength for this one.”

“If he’s smart, he won’t attempt another one so soon,” Stiles says and lays Christy’s hand back down, grimacing as he looks at all the cuts and contusions on the girl’s face.

“He’s a killer,” Derek responds, “And not just **any** killer, but he’s an unsatisfied one. He’ll keep trying, it’s in his nature to,” the alpha moves to check under the bed, “It’s not about being smart, it’s about _need_ , deep wants and urges.”

“Yeah, I get that, but if he’s as weak as we think he is, and as banged up from the struggle these last two have given him, he’d be a fucking idiot to even try another right now,” Stiles stands back up and moves to look around the room, “That’s all I’m saying, because if he does, his victim stands a pretty good chance of making it out alive.”

“Christy almost did, so did Ms. Lottrie,” Derek says as he lets out a huff of breath, “Sharon was more intent on making sure her killer would be caught, I don’t think she thought for a second she’d make it out alive, so she hid his things for us,” he finally voices aloud, looking at Stiles, “He thinks these women are weak, and they’re the exact opposite - it’s ironic.”

Stiles hums to himself and nods, “Just wish I would’ve had time to run those plates, it’s the first thing I’m gonna do when we get back, maybe we’ll get a hit.” That’s what he’s banking on, anyway, “Is Lahey on the way, or is it Finstock?”

“Finstock,” Derek says as he walks back into the hall, “Lahey is out for the day,” he probably shouldn’t know something like that, but he more or less catches every detail about everyone’s personal lives at the bureau. He could elaborate on _why_ the young FI is out, but it’s… _personal_ , “I doubt we’re gonna find out anything else here. We’ve already got everything we can possibly get of his, besides for himself.”

“We wanna step outside and wait til Finstock gets here?” Stiles asks and nods towards the door, “Pretty sure the cops are here, I can hear them out in the room with her mom.”

“Sure,” Derek responds shortly, anything to get away from the scent of the room. He dodges the splatters of blood on the carpet carefully before moving outside, narrowing his brows as he scents the air.

Since the last two bodies, Derek’s familiarity with Lawrence’s **actual** scent has gotten better significantly, now that he can pick it out of all of the blood and semen and arousal, not to mention the home and the victim’s scents. He catches it just outside as well, the smell of disappointment, frustration. Derek doesn’t expect to be pleased that the killer didn’t have the ‘time of his life’ with his latest two, but he does.

Stiles follows the older man outside and opts to stand and wait instead of sitting down like he usually does, glancing at his mate every so often just to make sure he’s keeping it together, “Instead of going straight back, do you wanna go for something to eat first, maybe give you a chance to cool down some?”

Derek nods silently, looking back at Stiles and, as upset as he is about the death and having that added to the list of things he’s responsible for, he’s also starving. He’s eaten on a more uneasy stomach before, “Okay.”

“I love you,” Stiles says softly after a moment, wanting his mate to know that even though he didn’t care for Christy, that he’s still there for Derek if he needs someone.

“I know,” Derek says shortly as he moves to the steps, standing there as Finstock pulls up behind the bright blue jeep. He nods as the older man passes, muttering to himself and glaring at the both of them like it’s their fault he has to come out to deal with the body, he’s at **least** half right.

Stiles follows suit and heads towards the jeep, only stopping briefly enough to tell Finstock to make sure he gets a sample of the blood underneath of Christy’s nails. The FI isn’t amused and gives him an incredulous look, to which he puts his hands up at, to show the guy he wasn’t doubting him. He moves to his vehicle completely then and climbs in, reaching across to shove the passenger's side door open for his mate.

Derek steps in and puts on his seat belt once more, “Where are we going to eat? There’s a few burger places in this area.”

“I don’t want burgers,” Stiles says and starts the jeep, pulling away from the crime scene, “I want the buffet from Sesame Inn - that Chinese place across town.”

“Stiles,” Derek narrows his brows, “That’s ‘across town’,” he points out, “There are at **least** five Chinese places on the way to it.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “But Sesame Inn is my favorite and **that’s** what I want, it’s not that far.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue it, he knows how determined his mate is, “Right…”

“You’ve had their beef and broccoli, Derek,” Stiles tries to reason, “You fucking loved it, why are you complaining?”

“It seems unnecessarily out of the way,” Derek says as he watches Stiles, “When you can just eat at another one that’s easier to get to.”

“Easier to get to, but not as fulfilling,” Stiles explains, glancing over at his mate.

Barely anything is fulfilling to Derek, so the alpha doesn’t respond, choosing instead to reach out and rest his hand on the younger man’s leg as he lets out a huff of breath.

Stiles reaches down sometime after the second stoplight and rests his hand on the werewolf’s, otherwise driving in silence as they travel across town. Instead of parking in the actual parking lot (because it’s packed), he decides to just park across the street, “Do you have change for the meter?”

“Yeah,” Derek says as he steps out of the jeep, walking around to the meter and stopping, glancing around as he scents the air.

Stiles climbs out as well and locks the jeep up, notching his brows together in confusion as he steps up next to Derek, “You can smell the food, can’t you? See, I told you it was good.”

“It’s not the food,” Derek says as he looks at Stiles, his eyes wide, “I smell _him_ ,” he mutters, voice sharp and low.

Stiles's expression changes quickly, eyebrows now narrowed more in concentration than confusion, “Can you tell which direction the scent’s coming from?” he asks, turning to look around.

“No,” Derek responds as he follows the scent the way that’s more fresh, looking ahead as he pushes past people on the crowded street.

Stiles moves to follow Derek, eyes scanning the sidewalk and the people on it and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he actually spots Lawrence, hand shooting out to Derek’s chest to stop him, “It’s him,” he breathes, heart racing frantically.

The man looks across the road at Stiles, stilling like a deer in headlights as his eyes widen and he turns to run down the street just as Derek looks at him as well.

“Shit,” Stiles mutters and bolts off after the guy without another word to his partner, almost getting hit by a car as he crosses the street to chase after him. It’s different than any other time they’ve had to chase a perp down, because he feels a sense of dedication, like he needs to catch Lawrence not only to give all the victims justice, but for Kelly as well.

He shouts at the man, but it’s pointless, because he doesn’t stop, he just keeps running like his life depends on it - and it probably does.

“FBI!” Derek all but roars as he follows after Stiles, taking out his gun as he looks at the people on the street who are now panicking, “FBI, **move**!”

Lawrence throws down the bag in his hand and ducks around the side of a street, running towards his car as he pants and reaches into his pocket for his keys.

Stiles sees Lawrence reach into his pocket as he nears the vehicle that fits the description Kelly gave them and the urgency that washes over him then is overwhelming, so he forces himself to move faster, grunting as he barrels into the guy and knocks him down **hard**.

“FBI!” he yells practically right in the perp’s face.

Lawrence turns, wincing and gasping as he throws out his arm and hits Stiles across the jaw, moving quickly to get to his car again.

Stiles groans in pain, but he doesn’t give the guy a chance to escape, getting up and running on pure adrenaline as he knocks the man back down again, all but throwing him onto his back before he straddles the older man’s body.

Before Lawrence even has a chance to react, Stiles throws his fist out and hits the guy across the face, surprised by the sudden thrill of satisfaction he feels and it all but sends him into some kind of frantic, feral mode, fist connecting continuously with the killer’s face.

Derek reaches the two men, slowing down finally and standing still, putting his gun back in his holster as he watches Stiles. If it were him, if he got his hands on the older man, he’d kill him in a heartbeat, unable to hold back because of his strength, but there’s something satisfying about watching his mate take care of it for him.

He waits for a moment, until he knows Stiles has **actually** went too far, and he reaches down to pick the younger man up off of Lawrence with ease, “That’s enough.”

“No, Derek,” Stiles huffs out an exhausted breath, body thrumming with adrenaline as blood drips from his knuckles, trying to get back at Lawrence even though the perp isn’t moving, “It’s not enough, it’s not.”

Derek holds Stiles still, pulling him back and looking him in the eyes, “I know, but any more and you’ll actually kill him. He doesn’t deserve to die, Stiles; he deserves worse.”

Stiles pants as he stares up at Derek, sweat making his face shine and he nods, “Yeah,” he agrees, shaking his hand to get some of the blood off and groaning in pain when he moves it, “Fuck, I think I broke my hand.”

“I’m more than sure that you **did** ,” Derek confirms, lifting Stiles’s chin to look at the bruise forming on the boy’s face, “Was it worth it?”

Stiles snorts at Derek and grins so wide it hurts his cheeks, “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, looking at the groaning form lying on the ground, “It was **so** worth it, I’d do it again, over and over. You wanna call it in?”

“Are you gonna leave that pleasure to me?” Derek asks rhetorically, smiling back and glancing at the tan car as he reaches into his pocket for his cell phone.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of our unpublished werks (besides fer this fic and a couple others that will be coming up on AO3 soon) can now only be found to read on my tumblr blog Cammerel, deep inside our RP vault that's now up fer viewing by dedicated readers.
> 
> -MageStiles


	20. Want to Have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
> 
> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

“You’re lucky he’s only suspending you for a week,” Derek says as he changes the bandages carefully, drawing the pain from Stiles, “It could’ve been worse.”

“It’s not like I killed the guy,” Stiles says and smiles, something that has pretty much been a constant since he took Lawrence down, “He killed seven girls, a little damage to his face was hardly retribution for what he’s done.”

“We never got Chinese.”

“First you don’t even want it and now you’re complaining we didn’t get any,” Stiles shakes his head fondly as the alpha finishes washing his hands, “I’m excited to tell Kelly.”

“We can tell her at the funeral,” Derek says and reaches out to pull his mate down from the counter, “She deserves to know.”

“Yeah, she does,” Stiles looks up at Derek, his other hand reaching out to smooth along his mate’s chest, “Can’t believe we actually caught him.”

Derek lifts Stiles’s chin to look at the spot where Lawrence hit him, again, leaning down to kiss just near it, “You did good,” he says softly, dropping down slightly to kiss the younger man’s lips, “I don’t think I’ve been so…”

“So what?” Stiles asks and pushes up into the kiss, hand moving to the older man’s scruff as his eyes flutter shut.

“Proud,” Derek says as he grins, “We haven’t had to chase anyone down in a while, and you were fast,” he rests his hands on Stiles’s waist, staring him in the eyes, “It was kind of surreal, catching him at all, and we weren’t even trying at that time.”

“I know,” Stiles says, thumb brushing against his mate’s jaw as he steals another kiss, “Kinda ironic, we’ve been busting our asses to find him this whole time and when we do finally catch him, it’s a complete accident.”

Derek turns into the touch of the other man’s thumb, reaching up to unbutton Stiles’s shirt as he looks over his mate’s features, “Less than an hour away from checking his plate, it’s more than ironic, it’s almost exhausting to think of.”

Stiles hesitantly pulls his hand from Derek’s face in order to attempt getting the older man’s belt off. It’s not nearly as difficult as he expected it to be, but he knows other tasks in general will probably prove to be more of an issue.

“Why couldn’t I have broken my _other_ hand on his face?” he asks rhetorically, pulling the belt from the werewolf’s pant loops, “Now I’m not gonna be able to jack off for like a month.”

“Your other hand still works,” Derek says as he smirks, leaning in and pressing his lips to Stiles’s, “Or you could let _me_ take care of it for you.”

“Solely rely on you for my orgasms?” Stiles asks and smiles at the older man, “Doesn’t sound so bad, but I’m-I’m pretty demanding, I need to get off like three times a day. Are you sure you’re up for that?”

Derek nods as he pushes the shirt from the younger man’s shoulders, “More than up for it,” he says as he runs his tongue over Stiles’s upper lip, pushing him back against the counter as the alpha lifts his brow in challenge, “What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I dunno, you tend to complain from time to time about the fact that it’s difficult for me to keep my hands off of you,” Stiles shrugs as he presses a chaste kiss to the taller man’s lips, “Wasn’t sure if the amount of fooling around we do actually bothers you or not.”

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” Derek says, “I could stand to do more, we’re just normally too busy,” he runs his hands down Stiles’s sides, “And I figure you like getting off on your own sometimes, because you know I can hear you doing it.”

“Yeah,” Stiles drawls and grins at the werewolf, reaching down and unbuttoning his slacks before dipping his left hand into his boxers, “And it really never affects you the way I’d like for it to,” he breathes, grin fading and breath hitching as he grabs his cock.

Derek looks down and swallows as he watches Stiles, his eyes widening slightly and he mutters a weak response, “You’re wanting me to come in and help you?”

“Mm,” Stiles hums vaguely and pulls his hand out, putting his palm to Derek’s chest and backing him up a little bit, “More like…” he pushes his pants down to his knees and leans back against the counter, grip light and teasing as he strokes himself, “I want it to drive you crazy,” he admits lowly, the sensation of using his left hand almost foreign, “I don’t want you to react reasonably, or just… ‘help me’.”

He groans softly when he teases the cap with his thumb, tongue rolling between his lips, “I want you to lose control a little and just… _take me_.”

Derek stares at Stiles still, hands dropping to his sides as his eyes follow the younger man’s hand. The last time he tried to do something like that, it ended **badly** , really badly - he hasn’t been that forward since then, and he probably never will, now that he knows how Stiles thinks. He doesn’t say that, though, he knows it would end up starting a fight, or an argument of some sort that would probably escalate into a fight, regardless.

“It does drive me crazy,” he admits, glancing up to his partner’s face.

“Then maybe you should prove it sometime,” Stiles utters, rolling the pad of his thumb over his slit to smear his pre-come down the shaft, shifting his feet some for comfort.

“Maybe,” Derek agrees mindlessly, even though he knows he won’t, not under those circumstances. He looks over Stiles’s body, meeting his eyes as the alpha moves back in tentatively, staring down at his mate, reaching out to grab Stiles’s hip again, “What do you want now?”

“For you to not be so mild mannered,” Stiles answers honestly and sighs, letting his length go and he touches the hand on his hip briefly before tugging his boxers back up, but kicks his pants away.

The alpha pulls back, narrowing his eyes as he removes his hands from Stiles, “Right…” he says stiffly and takes off his own pants, setting them in the hamper before walking out of the bathroom, down the hall and into the bedroom.

“So much for celebratory sex,” Stiles mutters to himself and reaches up to touch his jaw, wincing as he walks into their bedroom as well to climb in the bed.

Derek rolls his eyes at the childish comment, grabbing his pajama bottoms from the middle drawer and stepping into them. He turns out the light, moving to the bed and pulling the comforter out for Stiles, “If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you say it, instead of acting bitter?”

“Because I don’t want just **sex** ,” Stiles explains, but he’s not bitter, though he could understand why his mate would think as much with him saying what he did, “I wanted it to be heated, no bars held, no control sex. Hence me trying to get you riled up, it’s not a big deal.”

“You **were** getting there,” Derek says, looking at Stiles as he leans in close and reaches up to touch the younger man’s cheek, “And then you had to… react unreasonably,” the alpha pulls his mate to him, “If you want to rile me up, you should probably do it **right** , instead of fighting with me, Stiles.”

“Baby, I’m not fighting with you,” Stiles says pointedly, tone soft, “I told you what I wanted and you-when you touched my hip, you were gentle with me. That’s not what I want right now, I don’t want you to treat me like I’m fragile, and wanting you to use a little force with me isn’t unreasonable.”

Derek nods as he takes in the younger man’s words, letting Stiles go and moving back from him as he turns on the lamp on the bedside table. His mate **is** fragile, though, that’s the problem, and letting go a little bit is a risk. He wouldn’t put himself out there on his own, but Stiles is being pretty forward now, as long as he still wants that.

The alpha narrows his brows as he stands up from the bed, “That’s what you want? For me to be rough?”

Stiles doesn’t really understand what’s going on or why Derek got out of the bed, but he sits up some and frowns at the older man, “Yes?” he answers unsurely, because he’s afraid of it being the wrong answer - and he doesn’t want to upset his mate right now, not after the amazing day they had.

Derek smirks at the comment, his eyes flashing and he reaches out for Stiles, grabbing the younger man by his forearms and pulling him to the edge of the bed on his knees as the alpha stares at him still. He reaches up with one hand, grabbing Stiles’s jaw as he growls, “One more time, with a little more confidence.”

Stiles’s eyes widen and his heart starts racing, cock already taking interest in the way his mate is holding his jaw in his hand like he could just fucking break it, “Yes,” he says firmly, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

The alpha pushes Stiles back down on the bed, climbing over him and grabbing his wrists, careful with his right hand as he lifts them above the boy’s head and holds them there. He leans down low, grabbing Stiles’s hip in one hand and hoisting him up into Derek’s lap as he pushes up his mate’s chin with his nose, scenting his throat and growling again as his claws grow out, pinching at his wrists and his thigh.

“Fuck,” Stiles gasps and bares his neck a little more for his mate, “That’s-okay, that’s hot,” he mumbles mindlessly, too excited to think straight - he can’t even feel the pain in his hand at this point.

Derek continues to hold Stiles’s arms down, his right moving to curl around the hem of his partner’s boxers before ripping them off completely, his hand spreading Stiles’s thighs as the alpha pulls back to look him over, licking his teeth as his mouth waters.

“Do I need to piss you off?” Stiles asks curiously, trying to stay somewhat calm even though his heart is thudding like a humming bird’s, “‘Cause I’m getting the vibe you’re not really into it.”

Derek growls loudly, the sound of his voice causing the windows to shake as he grabs Stiles’s jaw again, leaning in close as he shakes his head, “No,” he says firmly, shifting back as he turns the younger man’s head to the left, ducking down as he takes the skin by Stiles’s right nipple into his mouth, biting him enough to draw blood as the alpha arches his hips against the bed, his stomach pressing down and shifting roughly against Stiles’s cock.

Stiles is torn between crying out and groaning, the pressure against his cock negating the sharp pain in his chest. This is relatively new for him, the mixture of both pleasure and pain, but he likes it, likes knowing his mate could just snap him in half if he wanted to, but also knowing that the older man won’t, because he loves him too much, “Derek,” he whines, “Don’t tease.”

The alpha pulls his pajamas down his legs, grabbing the younger man’s calves and lifting his legs above his head as Derek leans down, pressing his mouth against Stiles’s entrance and running his tongue over it, not bothering to respond to the request, otherwise.

“S’more like it,” Stiles moans and looks down the best he can, cock lurching against the happy trail beneath his navel as he buries his good hand in the alpha’s hair, urging his mate’s mouth against him more firmly.

Derek drags his teeth over the puckered hole, lapping his tongue along Stiles’s taint and around his balls before moving back to work his tongue into his mate, one hand running slowly over Stiles’s leg as he shifts his hips against the mattress below once more.

Stiles tries to lay still, but he ends up shifting his hips against his mate’s face anyway, eager for more, to feel all of Derek inside of him, “Come on,” he complains breathlessly, tugging at the werewolf’s hair, “Please.”

Derek growls in response, pulling back and sitting up on his knees as he drops the younger man’s legs to rest on his shoulders. He grabs Stiles’s thighs, yanking him in close as the head of his cock presses against his mate’s hole. He’s not prepared as much as they normally would, but he’ll receive Derek just the same.

The alpha leans forward, resting his hands by Stiles’s sides as he pushes his hips down against the smaller man, his cock sliding in all slow and painful, practically catching his breath.

Stiles narrows his brows and grunts, hands scrabbling for the older man’s shoulders the best he can and his nails dig in as his face all but turns red, “Jesus… Fucking Christ,” he pants, ignoring the dull burn as he attempts pulling the werewolf down for a kiss.

Derek leans in quickly, one hand grabbing the back of Stiles’s neck and pulling him in, kissing him quickly and biting at his lips and tongue as the older man pushes in completely, as far as he can, until his knot is rested against Stiles’s backside and Derek pulls out again, gasping into his mate’s mouth as he starts thrusting, not giving either of them time to adjust.

“Oh God,” Stiles whimpers as the older man’s gasp makes his cock twitch, surging up into the kiss and teasing Derek’s tongue with his own. Part of him still feels like the werewolf is holding back, but it’s to be expected, because as much as he doesn’t want the older man treating him like he’s fragile, he knows his mate will anyway.

Derek groans as he slams into Stiles, his knot spreading the smaller man open more each time he forces himself back in and the alpha hunches over him, one hand curling in the boy’s hair, the other pulling his hips up a little higher to better receive him.

“Stiles,” he says in a shaky voice, his claws growing out again as he shifts into his beta form.

Stiles groans in surprise when his mate shifts and he has to close his eyes almost at once, because seeing Derek like this, or even fully shifted is too much and he knows he’ll come, “Not fair,” he whines, still holding the werewolf close as he focuses more on the sensations rather than the imagery.

“Mm?” the alpha asks, but doesn’t bother thinking much into it, taking Stiles’s left leg and pushing it closer to the mattress as Derek looks down between the smaller man’s thighs, watching his knot as he pushes against Stiles firmly and grinds it down against his mate’s worn hole, growling as his teeth snap together, the claws on his feet tearing into the bed sheets.

Stiles is strong-willed when it comes to just about everything else in his life, but he can’t keep his eyes closed for long, the urge to look at his mate and watch their bodies move together is too strong to deny. He opens them and shudders bodily, moving his good hand from Derek’s shoulders to touch the wrinkled skin on the bridge of his nose as his mouth pops open.

Derek blinks as he looks at Stiles, his chest heaving as he nearly stills completely at the feeling of the other man’s hand on his face. He tilts his nose into it, closing his eyes as he rocks his knot into Stiles even more, hands dropping to his mate’s waist to help pull him back a little before Derek starts thrusting again, still somewhat thrown off.

Stiles gasps at the stretch and narrows his brows, eyes rapt on the werewolf’s face as his hand moves along the older man’s features, brushing the pads of his fingers over Derek’s eyebrow, down along his temple and scratching through the fur on his cheek as he breathes heavily. He’s close, just from this, just from adoring his mate and watching him, but he tries to stave it off a little longer.

“You’re close,” Derek says aloud, leaning in low and licking over Stiles’s lips as he rolls his knot against the other man again, his eyes looking over Stiles’s face.

His hand drops from the back of his mate’s neck, running down his stomach before Derek pulls back completely, taking Stiles’s thighs in hand and flipping him over. He lifts the smaller man’s hips, arching them just slightly before pressing his mouth back against Stiles’s ass, tongue running out around the worried muscle as he growls low in the back of his throat.

Stiles buries his face in the comforter and holds himself up, elbows and forearms against the bed for stability as he all but sobs at the sensation, “D-Derek,” he whimpers out, canting his hips back eagerly as his hole clenches, “Please, I’m gonna-m’gonna come.”

Derek runs his palms over Stiles’s ass, his tongue darting in, tasting himself and his body trembles eagerly, his own length throbbing desperately, leaking against the sheets as he presses his mouth firmly to Stiles’s skin, one hand squeezing his mate’s left ass cheek as the other draws back and smacks him, just enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck!” Stiles yelps and comes before he can even reach down to catch it, the orgasm itself taking him somewhat by surprise as his back arches, the pleasant warmth radiating where his mate struck him and it takes everything in him to not just slump down against the bed, “Der-Derek,” he breathes.

The alpha winces at the sharp scent of Stiles’s seed and pulls back, licking his lips as he steps off the bed, yanking Stiles to the end of it on his knees and Derek leans over him, biting and nipping at the back of his mate’s neck as he thrusts back in. His hand draws back and smacks Stiles again, a few times before he starts moving, his chest pressed to the younger man’s back as his knot works it’s width against Stiles’s lax hole.

Each smack jolts Stiles a little, but the overall sensation is nice, he’s just not used to it - if anything, it distracts him from the stretch of his mate’s knot. He’s mindful of his injured hand as he keeps himself up somewhat, still desperate to be connected to the alpha even though he’s already gotten off and he tries to voice it, but all that comes out are jumbled, indiscernible mumbles and moans.

Derek has that familiar, burning urge to call Stiles his, but he knows otherwise - as much as he wants to say it, he fights it back, his wolf just as displeased as he is. The marks he makes over Stiles’s back are the best he can do - besides for knotting the younger man - and though he doesn’t say much, he tries to convey how he’s feeling without sounding entitled.

His knees slide back up onto the bed as he mounts Stiles, pulling his mate back against him, the werewolf pressing his lips to Stiles’s ear as he huffs and ruts against his backside, “I’m yours,” he says, voice low and breathy, one hand holding Stiles’s neck as he moves.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirms weakly and grunts, reaching back and trying to touch as much of his mate as he can, “And I’m yours,” he says sincerely, turning his head some and reveling in the feel of the werewolf’s hand against his neck as he looks at Derek.

“I’m yours,” he repeats again.

Derek swallows tightly as he reaches down between Stiles’s legs, lifting the other man’s backside a little more as he rocks his hips, his mouth dropping open as he stares at Stiles. He shakes suddenly as his knot finally wedges itself in and as much as Derek wants to leave it there and get off already, he pulls back out, brows tightening together as he leans in and kisses Stiles, repeating the motion with his hips as he smiles slightly.

Stiles kisses back tenderly and reaches to touch the alpha’s face, moaning softly as he feels the knot burrowing into him, body thrumming at being so full of his mate and he smiles as well.

Derek lets out a huff of breath, turning into Stiles’s hand and pressing his lips to the younger man’s palm before taking the skin into his mouth, running his tongue over it as he continues to work his knot in and out of Stiles over and over again. Each time draws a whine from him, his body shaking so violently that he can hear it rattling the legs of the bed as he holds Stiles’s body firmly.

“Derek,” Stiles says lowly, eyes glazing over as he watches the older man, eyebrows notching together each time he feels his rim being tested by the knot, “Breed me,” he utters, knowing it’s not a possibility, but it’s still the principle of the thing - it’s still something they both want.

The alpha lets out a low, pleased growl as he pulls back slightly, lifting Stiles back up onto his knees, his hands on the smaller man’s hips but his upper half still rested down along his mate’s back as he thrusts his knot into Stiles quickly. Each time he pulls out shifts the other man’s knees back a little on the bed, his hips pushing against Derek’s palms and he turns to press his lips to Stiles’s ear.

“Yes,” he breathes as he whimpers, chest tightening at the thought of it as he drops his head a little to scent the younger man’s neck.

“Wanna be full of your pups,” Stiles tells him breathlessly, tilting his head for the alpha and offering his neck for the older man, his own spent length twitching some at the way the werewolf’s reacting.

Derek gasps at the comment, his control slipping a little and he starts to shift into his alpha form but he fights it back, “St ** _iles_** ,” he says, voice changing halfway through the other man’s name and he pulls out, just in case he hurts his mate. He’s larger in his alpha form, _longer_ , and the last thing Stiles needs now - after being worked open so quickly - is to be forced wider still.

Stiles whines at the loss and looks back at Derek, cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy, “What’s wrong? Come on, baby, knot me,” he pleads, raising his brows at the alpha.

Derek nods, “I know, I-” he feels the fur start growing out over his skin again and it’s like trying to stop yourself from breathing, “I can’t knot you in this form,” he says weakly as the fur retracts finally and he moves back to Stiles, letting out a frustrated huff of breath as he blinks the tears from his eyes, “Just… you excited me, too much.”

“Sorry,” Stiles says numbly and reaches back, grasping the older man’s length as he guides him back in, “It’s-It’s true, though, you know I do.”

“I know,” Derek pants as he watches Stiles, still trying to keep himself calm and he drops his forehead against his mate’s shoulder as the tears drip down his cheeks, “I know,” he says shakily, taking Stiles’s hip in his palm as he starts moving again, working his knot into the smaller man a few more times as he tries to catch his breath.

Stiles tilts his head back and kisses the corner of the alpha’s mouth, grabbing Derek’s left hand and pulling it to his stomach, pressing both of their palms against the flesh as he moans quietly.

Derek fucks his knot into Stiles a few more times before he comes, holding his mate close as he turns Stiles’s cheek and kisses him, taking the younger man’s bottom lip into his mouth as Stiles’s legs spread under his weight.

His other hand brushes along his mate’s stomach, “I want it too.”

Stiles feels his chin quiver slightly at the admission, but he just kisses Derek harder to calm himself, inwardly convincing himself that they’ll have children someday, even if it isn’t by traditional means.

“I want them, Stiles,” Derek says once he pulls back from the kiss, laying down on his side, curling around his mate as he presses quick, heated kisses along the younger man’s chin and jaw, “I want to have them with you,” his hand runs over Stiles’s stomach again, “I want pups, I want you to have them.”

“I wanna be able to give them to you,” Stiles says lowly, voice cracking as he fights the urge to cry. He doesn’t really know **why** the topic gets him as emotional as it does, but he can’t help it, and the fact that his mate is actually admitting these kinds of things aloud makes his heart swell, “I wanna be able to give you a family.”

Derek runs his hands from Stiles’s stomach, down his sides and his legs, the kisses slowing as he marks Stiles, biting and licking the skin as much as he can before he leans up to whisper in the other man’s ear.

“You already have,” he says softly, “It’s just a matter of making it _bigger_ , now.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	21. Never Grow Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
> 
> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek reaches down to fix Stiles’s tie again, meeting his eyes and smiling as he leans in to steal a quick kiss before he straightens up, “Ready?” he asks softly, lifting a brow.

“Yeah,” Stiles responds and reaches up to smooth out Derek’s dress shirt, “It’s kinda bittersweet. We’re going to Sharon’s funeral, but at the same time we get to tell the family and Kelly we got him, you know?”

“I know,” Derek says as he grabs his coat, pulling it on and buttoning it in the front, “It’s better than not having anything to say at all, though.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods and grabs his coat as well, but he doesn’t button his, “And I imagine it’s probably gonna be a uh-a relief to them, in a way. We can’t bring Sharon back, but at least we put the guy who killed her behind bars. There’s some sense of justice, at least.”

Derek reaches up to Stiles’s back, touching it gently as he watches his mate, “He can’t do it to anyone else, that’s what matters,” he says as he clears his throat, “We’re not taking the jeep,” he mutters as he moves passed Stiles to grab his keys.

“Then what are we taking, Derek?” Stiles asks in confusion, “A magical pumpkin? We haven’t found your car, so…”

“There’s no point looking for the Camaro,” Derek responds, “The person that picked it likely had it taken care of completely within the first couple hours. I bought a new vehicle.”

“When?” Stiles asks in confusion, “We’re hardly ever apart, when did you even have the time?” he follows his mate, staring at him incredulously.

“You slept in this morning,” Derek points out, “And I’ve… had it in mind for a few days,” he admits and shrugs, walking into the hallway with his free hand at his side as he smirks to himself.

“Well, what’d you get?” Stiles asks and moves to squeeze passed the older man, beating him to the front door before going outside, stopping when he sees the vehicle, “It’s a… um-It’s… extremely family oriented,” he muses, looking over the Toyota.

Derek chuckles as he joins Stiles, wrapping his arms around his mate from behind as the alpha leans down to whisper in his ear, “I wonder why,” he says as he touches the younger man’s stomach.

“You’re such a big sap,” Stiles says and grins, touching his mate’s hand before turning in the arms surrounding him to lean up, kissing the werewolf affectionately, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Derek replies quickly, kissing Stiles back, reaching up to cup his cheek for a moment before he pulls back to lock the door. He’s been slightly concerned about buying the vehicle, just in case Stiles didn’t react well to it, but so far he seems approving enough.

Stiles moves to the vehicle and waits on Derek, reaching up and cupping his hands against the passenger's side window as he looks in, observing the inside of the car and smiling to himself when he notices how spacious the back seat is - big enough for a couple car seats to fit comfortably.

Derek moves to the driver’s side, unlocking the car and climbing into his seat, watching Stiles curiously as he pulls on his seat belt, “What do you think?”

“I like it,” Stiles says as he climbs in as well, looking around the inside of it as he buckles himself in, “I’d like it a lot more if we had the means to justify buying it, but I-I do, I like it.”

“We’ll have that soon enough, it’s just a matter of time,” the alpha says as he watches Stiles, “Consider this an incentive,” he starts the vehicle and pulls out of the driveway, reaching across the seat to touch his mate’s leg, “I’m working on the rest, I just figured that since I needed a new vehicle, anyway, why not invest?” which is saying something, even for him, considering he **doesn’t** invest, investing means that hoping has become more than just an idea.

“It’s nice,” Stiles nods, instinctively reaching down to touch the hand on his leg, curling his fingers around it, “You know we’re gonna catch all kinds of shit for it, though. Especially from Lydia,” he says, grinning to himself.

Derek frowns in confusion, “‘All kinds of shit’?” he repeats, “Like what?”

“I think she knows we want kids,” Stiles explains, “I think she knew I wanted them before I even knew myself. So don’t be surprised if she prods, or asks 'when'.”

“Ah,” Derek says and nods, “It’ll be… Difficult to explain,” he admits, “They don’t know about… everything. And if we find some method that’s supernatural in nature, there’ll be difficulties in general, as well.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Stiles says, smiling weakly at his mate as he curls his fingers around Derek’s hand tighter.

Derek glances at Stiles, his eyes flitting to the younger man’s lips as his chest tightens fondly and he squeezes Stiles’s leg, “When we get there,” he repeats in agreement and it’s an unusual thing to say aloud, because he’s not used to speaking out of such confidence. He’s not even sure where it’s coming from, considering how tentative he’s always been to want more than what he already has, but he can’t help himself.

Stiles sits in silence then, at least until they get to the funeral home and his stomach starts twisting into knots when he sees all of the vehicles, “How should we do this, gather the family and Kelly all at once and just tell them?”

Derek narrows his brows as he parks, taking his hand from Stiles’s, “I’m not sure if it’d be appropriate to tell them before, or after the service…” he takes off his seat belt and looks at his mate, “Let’s try to feel it out instead of deciding now.”

Stiles nods in agreement and unbuckles himself as well, taking in a deep breath before climbing out of the vehicle, both equally nervous and excited.

The alpha climbs out as well, locking up and joining Stiles on his side, reaching out to touch his mate’s back as they walk together.

Kelly isn’t difficult to pick out amongst the groups of people, even if Derek didn’t have both her scent and her voice to work with. She’s wearing an unusually bright pink sundress, her purple hair put up in the back and, when she sees them walking towards her, she practically shrieks and runs to them.

“Hey!” she says, grabbing Stiles at once and pulling him into a hug, “I was beginning to worry if you fuckers were gonna show,” she exclaims loudly, “Good to see you two.”

“Good to see you, too,” Stiles says sincerely and squeezes the young woman tightly before pulling back, even more excited now at the prospect of telling Kelly they caught Lawrence.

“What’s with the soccer mom car?” Kelly asks as she glances past them, “I like the blue jeep, don’t tell me you traded it in or something, that thing was so bad ass.”

“Shit no,” Stiles snorts, “Are you kidding me? Roscoe’s my baby, that’s Derek’s new car,” he explains, grinning at the alpha, “Well, our new car.”

Derek lifts a brow, about to ask who ‘Roscoe’ is before he realizes that his mate has **named** his jeep.

“Oh, cool,” Kelly says slowly as she leans into Derek, “So you’re like settling down and shit?”

“Something like that,” the alpha responds.

Kelly glances between the two and notices how Derek’s hand is still on Stiles’s back and then she smiles widely, “Holy fuck, you two are together. I knew you were partners, but I didn’t know you were… _partners_.”

“Yup,” Stiles says proudly, glancing up at Derek before looking back to Kelly.

“That’s kinda awesome,” Kelly says and looks at Derek as well, glancing him over, “I’ve always liked the whole like-” she motions between them, “Bear-twink thing, it’s cute. And now-oh!” she gasps and puts her hands together, “Oh my God, now you’re gonna have little shit machines together, that’s so hardcore.”

Derek smiles slightly at the comment as Kelly starts making unusual sounds and then she throws her hands up and hugs him finally.

Stiles wants to ask how she figured out they want kids, but he guesses that it wasn’t a difficult conclusion to come to considering his mate’s new vehicle - it has soccer mom written all over it. He grins when Kelly hugs the werewolf and raises his brows expectantly at Derek, as if to say ‘you better hug her back’.

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles, but then he leans down slightly and does just that, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her gently.

When Kelly moves back she’s shaking her head and pulling her purse from her shoulder, “That’s shit, I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry today,” she complains as she grabs a tissue from her bag to dry her eyes before it gets out of control, “So,” she clears her throat, “You like my dress?”

“It’s… bright,” Stiles says and smiles sadly, “I didn’t know Sharon, but I think she probably would’ve liked it.”

“She bought it for me,” Kelly makes a girly pose, “She always complained that I didn’t wear enough bright colors,” she looks down at herself, “I don’t do the whole ‘dress thing’, you know?”

Derek nods, still somewhat astounded at how like Stiles the girl is sometimes - determined as Hell.

“I didn’t wear it at all until this morning,” Kelly admits, “But I figured why the fuck not? Some people think it’s rude, but Shar would’ve liked it. So how’s the case going? Did the photo help any?”

Stiles clears his throat a little and glances at Derek before meeting Kelly’s eyes, “Actually, there’s something we need to tell you… and Sharon’s family,” he says vaguely, not smiling, because he doesn’t want to give too much away.

“You caught him,” Kelly says and nods, “I knew it, I knew the moment I saw you two out on the street that you were gonna fix that fucker,” she looks between them, “I dunno if you knew what I was saying but I hope I got my point across.”

“You did,” Derek assures her, his hand running down Stiles’s back slightly.

Stiles can’t deny it, it’d be too cruel, so he just smiles and shows her his splinted hand, “I got in a few good hits for you,” he tells her.

“Oh, shit,” Kelly says, reaching out to look at it, “That’s kind of awesome,” she moves to hug Stiles again, “Thank you, seriously, if it wasn’t for you two…” she turns to kiss Stiles’s cheek and shakes her head, “I don’t know, I-I’m glad you two were the one’s handling the whole thing.”

Derek frowns as her eyes start tearing up again and he reaches out to put his hand on her shoulder, unsure of what he can say to comfort her otherwise.

Stiles breathes out shakily and drapes his arm over her shoulders, nodding towards the front doors of the funeral home, “You wanna walk in with us, maybe help us round up the immediate family?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, totally,” Kelly says as she pulls back and collects herself a second time, “They’re already seated up front, I just came out to make sure you guys didn’t feel uncomfortable, you know? I’ve been that awkward ass duck at funerals before,” she admits and smiles, wiping her eyes with the same tissue and breathing calmly, “We should tell them before things get going, they’d wanna know.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, nodding as he moves tentatively towards the building, “Let’s go.”

“So do you guys want like a couple beers or something?” Kelly asks as she walks with them, glancing at Derek, “You look like you could use a beer.”

“Beer at a funeral, never heard of that before,” Stiles mumbles to himself and looks at Derek, “He’s not really a big fan of alcohol in general,” he tells Kelly politely.

“So I’ll get you a beer,” Kelly looks at Stiles, “And him like a water or something? Soda?”

“Water’s fine,” Derek answers shortly.

Kelly nods, “Cool, and I hope you guys haven’t eaten, because the food is pretty amazing,” she says as she smiles, “It’s not really a traditional funeral, it’s more like a dine-in today.”

“My kind of funeral,” Stiles muses and looks around once they step inside, groups of people gathering about in different places, some standing and some sitting.

Kelly smiles wider at the approving comment, “Well I fucking hope so, I worked my ass off on it - we got that Chinese buffet shit from the Sesame Inn,” she leads them to one of the tables up front, tapping Sharon’s mother on the shoulder, “Carol, guess who dropped by?”

The woman turns and then stands up, reaching out to shake their hands, “Agent Hale, agent Stilinski, good afternoon.”

“Ma’am,” Stiles nods and shakes her hand before looking around, finally meeting the woman’s eyes, “We have something we’d like to discuss with you, if that’s alright? We’d just like for you to gather the immediate family, so we can tell you all at once.”

Carol nods as well, “Yes, Kelly,” she turns to the younger girl, “Lisa’s in the back with the kids, just bring her over,” she looks to the buffet tables on the far wall, “Jason, can you come over here?”

Derek watches Kelly walk off towards the back area where most of the kids are and he runs his hand back up to Stiles’s shoulders as Sharon’s father joins them with a few plates in his hand.

“Yeah, hun, what’s-oh,” the man puts the plates on the table and offers Derek his hand, “You two got some questions for us about Sharon?”

“Not quite,” Stiles tells Mr. Lottrie and looks at his partner, because he isn’t really sure who should be the one to tell them, “As soon as Kelly and Lisa return, we can uh-we can begin.”

Kelly walks back to them, Sharon’s older sister by her side as they join Stiles again, “Okay, we’re all here,” she looks at Carol and then to Stiles and Derek expectantly.

Stiles clears his throat and feels a little bit of pressure, standing in front of Sharon’s family like this with all of their eyes trained on him and Derek, “As I’m sure you all know, Ms. Puri provided us with information regarding your daughter’s killer.”

He glances at Kelly then and wets his lips, then looks between Sharon’s mother and father, “And we’re here today to tell you that we caught him.”

Carol’s eyes widen and she puts her hands to her mouth as she looks at them, her husband nodding and reaching out to rub her back.

“That was fast,” Lisa says and raises her brows in surprise, “You FBI dudes are efficient.” It sounds sarcastic, like she doesn’t mean it, and her father turns to glare at her, but Derek knows that she’s sincere - wrong, considering how long they’ve been trying to catch Lawrence Owen, but sincere.

“Thank you,” Jason says then, as if to apologize for his daughter and he smiles sadly at them, “It’s comforting to know that he won’t be able to do this to another girl, ever again.”

Derek nods in agreement and glances at his mate, shifting slightly closer to Stiles when Carol finally reaches out to take the younger man’s hand again in both of hers this time.

Stiles begins to shake Mrs. Lottrie’s hand, but then he steps closer and gives her a quick hug instead, “I’m glad we could catch him for all of you. I know it’s not-It’s not the kinda justice I’d want, but I hope all of you can rest easier knowing he’s rotting in prison.”

“It’s not the justice I’d want either,” Lisa admits, moving from her dad before he can say anything, “But I’m pretty sure his friends in prison will take care of the rest, he’s a tiny old fart, isn’t he?”

“Yeah he is,” Kelly responds and grins, “He’s like fifty-five or something,” she turns to Stiles and Derek, “So, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get you two some food and get you seated, eating always makes this shit go by faster.”

Stiles leans into Derek and follows Kelly, for the first time since he’s started the FBI he thinks he might actually have a reason for sticking around, a reason to persevere even when cases look grim, because this, being able to tell a family that they caught a loved one’s killer, there’s not much else that compares to the satisfaction it brings.

“So,” Kelly says conversationally as she joins them at the buffet table, handing Stiles his plate and letting Derek get his own as she takes up one for herself, “We’re you two like a thing before or _after_ the whole FBI gig?”

“After,” Derek answers shortly, glancing at Stiles.

“Ooo, that’s kinda hot,” Kelly admits and giggles, snorting slightly as she nudges Stiles, “You had to have some of that giant bear meat, huh?”

Stiles looks at Kelly as if to say ‘duh’, “Tell me you wouldn’t wanna climb him like a tree if you were into dick,” he says, grinning at the young woman.

“Well, I don’t have a problem with dick, itself,” Kelly says, glancing at Derek, “I can definitely appreciate a **real** man, it’s just that they’re in short supply… and I love my ladies,” she shrugs, “But dicks aren’t a problem. I’ll live vicariously through you, though, you can climb him like a tree for every other person that wants to.”

Derek feels his cheeks heat, but doesn’t respond as he makes his plates, shaking his head to himself as he listens.

“Speaking of dicks,” Kelly gives Stiles a look, “It’s all like… _proportional_ , right?”

“Oh God, yeah,” Stiles tells her shamelessly, not minding at all that Derek can hear them - Kelly’s kind of like a friend at this point, anyway, “Like a fucking horse.”

“Nice,” Kelly reaches out to snatch up a couple egg rolls, “Does he ever bottom for you? Tell me you tap that ass, because **seriously**. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

“Mmm,” Stiles hums fondly, “He does have a nice ass, doesn’t he?” he asks rhetorically, grinning at Derek before looking back at Kelly, “And yeah, he does.”

Kelly laughs and slaps Derek on the back, “Good for you, dude, it’s nice to see a bear that can take it just as well as he gives it,” she leans in to the taller man, “And how about Stiles, huh? Tell me all about it.”

Derek glances at Kelly with a raised brow, his hand stilling in mid-reach for some lo mein, “What?”

“Oh please,” Kelly all but shrieks, making a motion with her hands, “His little body, come on, dude. He’s like the leanest little twink, and his lips - please, come on.”

“Yeah, Derek,” Stiles urges with a shit eating grin, watching his mate curiously, “ _Come on_.”

Derek looks between them, feeling unusually nervous and confused, “What?” he asks again.

“You don’t talk much,” Kelly replies, “I’ll make it easy for you,” She motions to Stiles, “You’ve gotta agree that every time you look at him and how tiny he is compared to you that you get a **little** stiff, right? He’s like-and his ass, I mean seriously, that’s gotta be a thing.”

Derek narrows his brows at her as she looks at him expectantly again, “Yeah,” he agrees then, frowning even more when she leans in close.

“You’ve gotta tell me,” she says, eyes widening, “You’ve gotta tell me how it is to just be able to pick him up and toss him around, stuffing your like-gigantic horse-” she stops when Derek covers her mouth and glares at him, putting her hands on her hips for a moment before making a lude gesture with her hands, just between her legs.

Stiles almost drops his plate and starts laughing, finding the almost panicked expression on Derek’s face more than priceless, “If he won’t tell you,” he starts, trying to catch his breath, “I’ll tell you all about it later, promise.”

Kelly waits for Derek to pull his hand away and then she finishes, “Stuffing your gigantic horse dick up his ass,” she says before he can react and she grins at the look he gives her, “Oh please, just tell me, **please**.”

“Ms. Puri-”

“Ew, fuck no, don’t ‘Ms. Puri’ me,” Kelly makes a face, “Good fucking God, man, I’m not my mom. Just tell me that you like the size kink, okay, and I’ll leave you alone, big guy. I know how sensitive you are.”

“I do,” the alpha replies shortly.

Kelly turns to Stiles then, smiling in satisfaction, “Mhm, knew it.”

“I’m surprised you got that much out of him, honestly,” Stiles tells her and takes his plate before moving to a nearby table, “It took me like, the better part of a year to get him to warm up to me in the slightest. Granted, he was secretly in love with me for a good while, but still.”

“Secretly in love with you?” Kelly asks curiously, following Stiles as Derek goes back to making his plates, “That’s kinda cute, it’s like… fate or some shit. I’m not worried, I know he likes me too much, and he **definitely** likes you, it’s not like he can argue the point.”

“He doesn’t like very many people,” Stiles points out, “You should feel privileged,” he says around a mouthful of rice.

Kelly nods, “Yeah I figured that pretty much the first time I saw you two walk into Sharon’s house. And, you know, when I went to the bureau. Not a lot of people there like him, either, so I guess it’s mutual. But I like him, he’s totally like a big cuddly teddy bear or something, and the way he looks at you,” she shakes her head, “I dunno, I’m a good judge of character, normally.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods mindlessly, trying not to groan at how good the food is, “He’s definitely a big softy, don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

Derek joins them then, sitting down and setting his plates on the table as he glances between them, “So you planned the funeral?” he asks to try and get them off of talking about him.

“Uh, kinda,” Kelly says and shrugs, “Shar kinda talked about a lot of things like this, she was always really straightforward about how she felt about funerals, and we’re good friends with the family that runs this place, they’re cool. Carol didn’t wanna do anything because she wasn’t sure what would be right, so she asked me to help.”

“That was really nice of you,” Stiles mentions, poking at his beef and broccoli, “I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult all of this has been for all of you.”

Kelly smiles and waves it off, “Difficult? Nah, not at all. She’s my girl, right? So I wouldn’t really feel right if someone else had done it, or if it’d been done wrong. We’re celebrating her life, not burying another body of a person none of us knew, so we let the preacher say all that stupid horse-shit that barely any of us believes, anyway. Shar would’ve choked me out if I’d let that happen, and not in the nice kinky way, either.”

“Still,” Stiles says, “It’s a nice gesture, I’m sure her family appreciates the help.”

“They’re my family too,” Kelly responds softly, “I knew Shar pretty much all my life, I practically lived at her house, and soon enough I actually **will** ,” she looks down at her plate as she takes a bite of her eggroll, chewing slowly.

“You wanna know somethin’ that really pisses me the fuck off? I was supposed to stay at her house that night, but I wanted to cram for a meeting with our Writer’s Club, just in case I got called on, right? I ended up not even going because she got murdered that night…”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles tells her and reaches to rub his hand against her forearm for a moment, smiling sadly before he draws it back.

Kelly smiles at Stiles and takes another bite of her eggroll, “It’s okay, it’s just-stupidly ironic. All because I didn’t want her getting me sidetracked, like I know she would’ve, and then she was home alone that night. Carol and Jason were out, taking Lisa to a fucking doctor’s appointment - it was like the perfect storm. I was the one that found her the next morning, came to give her back her smokes and… yup.”

Derek watches her silently from his seat, his knee gently shifting against his mate’s leg as he eats. It’s interesting hearing the details from her perspective, to actually get to know someone’s experience, but it’s also upsetting because he knows that feeling all too well.

Stiles subtly reaches beneath the table and sets his injured hand on his mate’s leg as he nods minutely to Kelly, brows narrowed pensively, “I would tell you it gets better, or like, give you some kind of corny speech about how bad things happen to good people… but,” he shrugs, “The truth is is that it’s all bullshit and it never really stops hurting, you just learn to deal with it after a while. I really am sorry you lost her, though.”

“Me too,” Kelly says as she finishes her food, the front doors finally closing and she wipes her mouth with her napkin, clearing her throat, “I mean, I read Harry Potter, so I get the whole thing, it’s cool. So, I gotta go up and do my shitty sappy thing, you guys keep eating and I’ll be back after.”

Derek nods as he watches her go up to the microphone, quieting the people in the large room as she introduces herself with an awkward bow and he turns to look at Stiles as this soft, sad music starts to play.

He takes his mate’s hand gently, “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Stiles responds quietly and pushes the rest of his food away, looking at Derek for a moment, “I’m just glad we’re finally able to close this case, it feels good.”

“I know,” the alpha agrees, listening slightly as Kelly says a few things that make some of the people in the room laugh, being as unusually entertaining as she’s been with them, “I think this is the first case I’ve even really cared for in… a while,” he admits, “And it’s your first real case, starting and ending, I mean.”

“It’s a pretty big case, too,” Stiles muses, “I think I’d be more excited, but… with as many victims as there were, it’s kinda difficult to um-yeah…” he says vaguely.

Derek leans in to kiss the top of Stiles’s head, “The only silver-lining is that we’ve stopped him there. He won’t do it again, keep that in mind. I know the body count can be overwhelming, but it won’t get bigger, because **you** worked to stop him as soon as you possibly could’ve.”

“ **We** ,” Stiles corrects his partner and smiles fondly, leaning to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “We worked to stop him as soon as we possibly could’ve.”

“I know a few of you already know what’s coming next,” Kelly says as Derek turns back to look at her and she glances around the room, “Most of you have already finished eating, those of you that haven’t - don’t feel rushed. But feel free to join in once you are. If those of you that are ready would please stand up and come to the front, you don’t even have to be good at it, it’s just slow dancing, it’s nothing special - trust me I’m like fifty times worse than any of you will be.”

Derek raises a brow as people around them start to get up and he looks at Stiles tentatively, “Do you… want to?”

“This is so unconventional,” Stiles mumbles to himself, but smiles and stands up, raising his brows at his mate, “Come on, show me your moves.”

Derek doesn’t know about ‘moves’, he **was** taught to dance when he was younger - he hasn’t in a while, it’ll probably be awful, but he doesn’t like the idea of sitting and being awkward, instead. He stands as well, taking Stiles’s good hand and leading him around.

Kelly grins as she sees them get up and the music starts playing louder behind her, “Come on people, don’t be shy,” she says as a few other tentative couples stand up as well, “That’s more like it.”

Stiles steps closer to Derek and instead of straining his arms in an attempt to keep them around his partner’s neck, he settles his palms on the alpha’s chest and leans in close, humming his contentment as he rests the side of his face against the werewolf’s chest as well.

Derek smiles to himself, his palms resting on Stiles’s waist as Kelly starts singing, it’s an unusual funeral, but he thinks he prefers it to just about every other one he’s been to before. The sundress, the food, and now dancing, it’s more like a get together, instead of a mourning. The alpha reaches up with one hand, running his fingers through the back of Stiles’s hair as he listens to the soft, sad song Kelly’s singing for them.

_[Go to sleep, may your sweet dreams come true,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0rMBP-gTYw) _

_Just lay back in my arms for one more night,_

“I didn’t know she could sing,” Stiles mumbles, left hand smoothing along Derek’s chest as they move together slowly.

“I overheard her talking to Mr. Lottrie about it before we got out of the vehicle,” Derek admits and chuckles, the hand on Stiles’s waist guiding the younger man around as he stares down at Stiles.

_I’ve this crazy old notion that calls me sometimes,_

_saying ‘this one’s the love of our lives’._

“How come we’ve never danced before?” Stiles asks then, pulling his head from Derek’s chest to look up at him, “This is the first time, which means that this will technically be our song from here on out. It’s sad.”

Derek narrows his brows in confusion, “What do you mean ‘it’ll be our song from here on out’?”

_Cause I know a love that will never grow old,_

_And I know a love that will never grow old._

“That’s exactly what I mean, this is how that works, dude,” Stiles explains, “The first song you dance to becomes your song, so this is ours now.”

“Why?” Derek asks still, “Is this a human superstition?”

_When you wake up, the world may have changed,_

_But trust in me, I’ll never falter or fail._

“It’s a human thing, duh,” Stiles responds fondly, finding it humorous how confused Derek is, “Unless you don’t want us to have a song?”

“I don’t listen to music,” Derek admits and shrugs, “It doesn’t make a difference to me.”

_Just the smile in your eyes, it can light up the night,_

_And your laughter’s like wind in my sails._

“Right,” Stiles says and puts his head back against the alpha’s chest, a little disappointed that the werewolf doesn’t seem to care if cheesy traditions like that mean anything to him.

Derek smiles and rolls his eyes fondly at his mate, “Is the song supposed to pertain to the couple in a significant way?”

_Cause I know a love that will never grow old,_

_And I know a love that will never grow old._

“It usually does, yeah,” Stiles mumbles and closes his eyes, lulled by the soft sway.

“Does this matter a lot to you?” the alpha asks then, fingers brushing along the back of Stiles’s neck.

_Lean on me, let our hearts beat in time,_

_Feel strength from the hands that have held you so long._

“Not a lot,” Stiles says, “But a little, yeah, I am kind of human.”

Derek reaches his hand back around, lifting Stiles’s chin to look him in the eyes as he continues to move, “Then it matters to me.”

_Who cares where we go on this rutted old road,_

_In a world that may say that we’re wrong._

Stiles stares up at Derek and feels his chest tighten, stomach fluttering with butterflies and he’s not sure if he’ll ever stop feeling this way when he looks at his mate, “I love you,” he says softly, smiling slowly at the alpha.

“I love you, too,” Derek says, leaning down and kissing Stiles as the song closes and changes. He pulls back, smiling and feeling like he needs to point something out, “We got to have Chinese… did you mention that to her? Because I didn’t.”

Stiles wants to protest the distance between them now, having gotten far too comfortable resting against the taller man, “I didn’t say a thing,” he shrugs, “Just a weird coincidence, I suppose.”

Derek settles his hands back on Stiles’s waist as he stares at his mate, “Most of it has been weird coincidences,” he says as he shrugs, “Do you want to keep dancing?” he asks curiously, “Or will we end up with more than one song?”

Stiles sniggers and shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. It doesn’t really work that way, we can sit back down if you want?”

“No,” Derek says before he can stop himself and then clears his throat, “I don’t mind this.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, trying to hide his grin as he pulls the older man close again by his tie, “Cool.”

Derek feels his heart race slightly and he smiles back, one hand moving around to the small of Stiles’s back, his other reaching up to his shoulder, “Right… cool,” he mutters to himself.

“I like this,” Stiles tells him then, “It’s not something we do, like, ever. I like knowing people are probably watching us, knowing that we’re together.”

“So you’re an exhibitionist,” Derek says and chuckles, “I should’ve known.”

“I dunno if I am or not,” Stiles says truthfully, “But I like the thought of other people knowing I’m yours.”

“That reminds me of something my father used to say,” Derek admits suddenly, narrowing his brows because he never really talks about his family with Stiles.

Stiles’s expression softens and he stares up at Derek curiously, placing his palm over the older man’s heart, “What’d he used to say?”

Derek smiles sheepishly and shrugs, “Things I wasn’t supposed to overhear, about marking and mating, how he’d-it’s nothing.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, pushing up to press a gentle kiss to his mate’s lips. It’s already more than he ever really anticipated hearing about Derek’s family, so he refuses to push for more.

“It’s not sentimental,” Derek says back as he realizes Stiles is dropping the question, “It’s just… inappropriate.”

“It’s cool,” Stiles shrugs flippantly, still grinning somewhat as he leans back in close again.

Derek decides to relate the comment to something else he knows about his kind, “Most werewolf packs that are… secluded from humans, it’s in their nature to claim and mark in front of others. To mate, to knot,” he explains, voice somewhat low.

“So,” Stiles says, pulling back just enough to look up at the werewolf again, finger pressing to his mate’s chest, “Somewhere deep in there, there’s the urge to just take me in front of everyone?”

“Yes,” Derek admits, “But it’s more than that, it can be more…” he narrows his brows, “I would do it in front of them, **because** we were in front of them, to show them.”

“Part of me wishes you could,” Stiles says honestly, reaching up to touch his mate’s face, “We’d probably both get arrested, though.”

Derek responds shortly, “Part of me, most of me, doesn’t particularly care whether I can or can’t, and is still willing to do it, regardless of the consequences.”

“Then what keeps you from doing it?” Stiles asks curiously, thumb brushing against Derek’s beard.

“The ‘Were’ part,” Derek answers, leaning into Stiles’s touch.

“Well,” Stiles says softly, moving his hand down to Derek’s neck, touching the skin there and then moving it to the older man’s shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I’d want you to.”

Derek stares down into his mate’s eyes, “It’s worth a lot,” he says softly, leaning in and pressing a soft, slow kiss to Stiles’s forehead.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)


	22. It's a Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
> 
> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

“Come on,” Stiles pleads, completely turned sideways in his seat as he watches Derek, glancing longingly at the back seat, “It’s been like four hours and we haven’t seen the guy yet, we could just-” he huffs, “Sex, Derek; you like sex, I like sex - we should do it, _in the back seat_.”

“Stiles,” Derek growls from the driver’s side, turning to look at his mate, “We’re **working** , we still have another two hours here, and if I fuck you ‘in the back seat’, we could miss him.”

“I’ll make it really good for you, I promise,” Stiles tries to reason with the older man, sitting up a little more and drawing his knee up under himself, leaning to cup the older man’s cock through his jeans, “We haven’t fucked in here yet. Just because the back seat is for our pups doesn’t mean we can’t, you know, at least use it to try and make them.”

Derek growls again in warning at the term ‘pups’, his hands gripping the steering wheel as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, “Shut up, _**Stiles**_.”

“You know you want to,” Stiles grins, groping the older man’s flaccid length, “Think about it, Derek; think about breeding me, pumping me full of your pups, my stomach getting all big and round. _Come on_.”

The alpha groans weakly, dropping his hand to cover Stiles’s as he arches his hips up. He can only be expected to resist his mate **so** much, “ _ **Stiles**_ ,” he says again, voice softer, and he looks at his partner, sighing in defeat, “Fine.”

Stiles pulls his hand back at once, grinning widely as he all but jumps through the two front seats, climbing into the back and peeling his clothes off eagerly, “Hurry up,” he whines.

Derek follows after, grabbing Stiles around the waist as he sits in the back seat, pulling the younger man into his lap and squeezing his ass, “But this better be **quick** ,” he says firmly, arching his hips up.

“Depends on you, big guy,” Stiles groans halfheartedly and leans in to mouth along his mate’s neck, biting down hard and marking him for the first time in a while as his hands scramble to get the alpha’s shirt off.

“Why does it depend on me?” Derek asks as he runs his hand over Stiles’s stomach, dropping his head back as Stiles bites him. He reaches back down to unbutton the younger man’s pants when the phone in his back pocket starts ringing.

“Don’t-” Stiles warns, all but prying his lips from the werewolf’s neck to look him in the eyes, “Don’t answer it, just-keep touching me.”

“I have to answer it,” Derek says, “We’re on a stakeout, if I don’t answer it then they’ll know we aren’t doing… what we’re supposed to be doing,” he growls in annoyance and pulls his hand from Stiles’s pants, reaching down to his pocket and taking out his phone. He dabs the screen and catches his breath before answering as calmly as possible, “Hale.”

“Hey!” Scott says hurriedly, “Listen, uh, Stiles told me where you guys were staking out at, and we need help. We’re like, literally three blocks or something from you guys and we need back up; we’re in pursuit and we need you guys to head them off or something at the end of Main.”

“We’re on it,” Derek answers and ends the call, dumping Stiles off his lap and climbing into the driver’s side seat, “Get dressed, **now** ,” he says as he starts the vehicle and pulls out from where they’ve been stationed at the past four hours.

Stiles grumbles and picks his shirt up, pulling it on reluctantly and buttoning it as he makes his way back up into the passenger's side seat, grunting as he gets situated, “I told you not to answer it, we were-that… it could’ve been good, but no, you had to answer it and leave me with a hard on.”

“McCall called,” Derek responds as he rolls his eyes, “They’re in pursuit, if I didn’t answer then I wouldn’t be doing my job…” which is ironic, because technically they weren’t.

“No, you would’ve been doing **me** ,” Stiles responds sarcastically, shoving his shirt back down into his slacks.

“Later,” the alpha says as he passes the second block, listening intently as he drives out, stopping at the end of main and watching the car as it speeds towards them and swerves at the last second. He puts his vehicle in park and climbs out, pulling his gun from it’s holster and flipping off the safety as the passenger in the other car jumps out as well, “FBI!”

Stiles’s eyes widen when Derek gets out and shouts, heart racing because for a second, he honestly thought the vehicle was going to slam right into them. It takes him a moment to get with the program, shoving out of their car and pulling his gun from it’s holster as well, wincing at how his pants pinch his erection as he rounds the car, pointing it towards the one that almost hit them.

Derek ducks as the man turns and shoots at him, missing him and then the guy aims at Stiles and the alpha moves quickly, reaching out and grabbing his mate, yanking him in and moving in front of the smaller man, wincing when the bullet hits him in the right side of his hip.

Stiles feels sick to his stomach, reaching out for his mate even though he knows it can’t really hurt the werewolf, “Baby, are you okay?”

Lydia’s car pulls up behind the Dodge Neon and she jumps out of the driver’s side, aiming quickly and shooting the woman that’s climbing out of her own driver’s side in the shoulder, “FBI, you stupid bitch!”

Derek shakes his head and turns to shoot back at the other man, “I’m fine, of course I’m fine, Stiles.”

“Don’t you ‘of course I’m fine’ me,” Stiles squawks indignantly, “I’m allowed to worry, you stubborn fucking werewolf.”

Scott climbs out of the vehicle and glances over the hood at Lydia, about to shoot at the guy, but then he bolts off towards the alleyway off to the side of the road. He follows instinctively, keeping his gun pointed as he shouts at the man to stop.

“That’s my point, I’m a werewolf,” the alpha says, giving Stiles a pointed look, “Don’t worry about me, it’s pointless,” he turns, straightening back up to follow after Scott as Lydia walks to the woman, pulling a pair of handcuffs from her pocket.

The guy panics just as he’s about to reach the other end of the alleyway, able to feel the agent on his heels and he turns suddenly, arm slinging out and he pulls the trigger with a shaky hand, eyes wide before turning to run off again.

Scott hears the gunshot before he feels it, the ringing loud in his ears as the sound reverberates off of the brick walls. He looks down and only after he checks his abdomen does the pain even really begin to register, and it’s like it hits him all at once, overwhelming him and causing him to drop to his knees, hands clutching at the growing red spot on his shirt.

“Scott!” Derek shouts, moving to the younger agent and reaching out to catch him. Thankfully, he’s had experience with gunshot wounds plenty of times before now. He lays Scott back on the ground carefully, his hands moving to cover the wound even as blood gushes out between his fingers, “Stiles, give me your shirt!”

Stiles follows Derek and he feels numb all over when he sees Scott laying on the ground, heart sinking to his stomach, “Scotty?” he asks worriedly, realizing belatedly that Derek had asked for his shirt. He takes it off as quickly as he can and gives it to his mate, then moves around to his best friend’s other side and kneels down, “Goddammit, bro, why didn’t you just take him out?”

Scott coughs and grimaces in pain, groaning and fighting the urge to wail, “I didn’t wanna kill him,” he explains, shaking his head as he looks up at Stiles, “Dude, don’t let her-don’t let Lydia see me.”

“Don’t worry about your wife, Scott, worry about yourself,” Derek says firmly, taking Stiles’s shirt and covering the wound as he pulls the phone from his pocket, “Keep talking to us, tell me how you’re feeling, can you feel your legs?”

Scott shakes his head and the pressure to his stomach forces a strangled sounding cry out of him, “I can’t, oh God,” he doesn’t want to panic himself, but he can’t help it, “Stiles,” he grits out, “Buddy, I don’t think I’m-”

“Don’t you even dare say it,” Stiles cuts him off, staring at him sternly, “You’re-you’re gonna be fine, buddy, you gotta be, right? You got Heidi-bug and Ollie, they need you, man.”

Lydia cuffs the woman to the car door quickly before making her way into the alleyway, walking nervously as she sees Derek and Stiles huddled around her husband.

Scott’s skin begins to pale some with the amount of blood loss and he feels cold, body wracking with tremors as he feels warm gushes of blood squirting out of him, “I-I-If I don’t,” he starts, the pain so overwhelming he can hardly think straight, teeth starting to chatter, “Make sure they know I love ‘em, okay?”

“No,” Stiles refuses vehemently, eyes watering as he clenches his jaw, “‘Cause you’re gonna be fine, and then you can’t just-you can tell them yourself.” He looks up at Derek then, trying not to freak out, “You gotta do something.”

“Scott?” Lydia asks softly, eyes wide as she moves to them.

“Do what?” Derek asks lowly, voice harsh as he looks at Stiles, “I’m not magic, I can’t heal him, yes-” he turns into the phone, “This is agent Hale of the FBI.”

Stiles’s eyes widen and he leans across Scott to grab the phone from Derek’s hand, ending the call and tossing the phone, “Are you fucking stupid?” he asks, hands shaking now, “You’re-” he tightens his lips into a thin line and looks at his best friend, then back up to his mate, “You **can** heal him, Derek, **please**.”

Derek narrows his eyes, “What are you talking about? I’m a werewolf, not a magician.”

Lydia drops to her knees at Scott’s head, reaching out to touch his hair, “Scott, baby-”

“M’okay,” Scott mumbles for Lydia’s benefit, even though he doesn’t have the slightest clue what he looks like, he’s barely even able to register what they’re talking about at this point.

“Maybe not,” Stiles says to Derek, “But you’re an alpha,” he raises his brows, chin quivering, “He’s not gonna make it if you don’t-I need you to, Derek, he’s my best friend, okay? I can’t lose him.”

“The bite is a gift,” Derek responds numbly, shaking his head, “It comes at a cost, and it could **kill** him just as well.”

“The what is a gift?” Lydia asks in confusion, looking at Derek.

Stiles keeps his eyes rapt on his mate, because he knows that if he looks down, he’ll lose it completely, “It’s not like he has much to lose right now, he’s gonna die if you **don’t** bite him. I’m begging you, please do it.”

“I can’t do that to him, Stiles,” Derek says firmly, “I can’t curse him to this life, he’d be better off dead than to have to deal with the things I do-”

“Just fucking do it!” Stiles yells then, eyes brimming with tears as he looks at the older man fearfully, “ **Now**!”

Derek growls loudly in response, eyes changing as he shifts, Lydia gasping and covering her ears as fur sprouts out over his face, hands reaching down quickly to take off his holster and his clothes tear as he shakes. The alpha stands up on his hind legs as he reaches out with his claws to lift Scott’s shirt, leaning in quickly and biting him.

Stiles has to look away when it happens, unable to watch as he listens to Scott scream and he moves to Lydia, turning her away from it as well as he pulls her against him, hugging her close, “He’s gonna save him, Lyds.”

“What’s going on? What **is** he?” Lydia asks, eyes wide as she looks at Stiles, “What is he, Stiles? What the fuck is he?” she’s all but shrieking hysterically at this point.

Stiles grabs her by her biceps and looks her in the eyes as calmly as he can muster, “He’s a werewolf,” he tells her, “He’s gonna save Scott. You saw him, Lyds, he wasn’t gonna make it. This way he’ll **live**.”

“A werewolf,” Lydia responds, eyes still wide as she nods, “A werewolf… why didn’t I figure it out before?” she asks sarcastically, numb from the ears down, “Makes sense…”

Derek pulls away from Scott, sitting back on his haunches and licking at his teeth as he watches, listening to the bite already taking effect.

Stiles blanches as he stares at Lydia, willing himself not to look past her at his friend lying on the ground, “It does?” he asks.

“No! It doesn’t make any fucking sense at all!” Lydia shouts, pushing Stiles away and turning to look at the large creature sitting there by her husband. As much as she wants to argue, though, she saw it happen right before her eyes. He looks more like a bear than anything, a very canine-featured bear, but wolves don’t get that big, not even in the wild, not unless they got bit by a radioactive spider, “Werewolf…” she says slowly.

Stiles steps up beside her and nods, now looking at the form of Scott on the ground, bite wound accompanying the bullet wound and he frowns, “Werewolf,” he confirms before glancing at Derek.

Lydia moves to Scott again, looking at the bite on his side and then to Derek nervously, “Is that gonna scar?”

Derek rolls his shoulders as he straightens up a little and then shakes his head, “No.”

Stiles moves to his mate then and leans into him, fingers latching onto his fur as he looks the werewolf in the eyes, “If it takes, how long will it be?” he asks worriedly.

“Minutes,” Derek huffs, “It’s already healing him,” he admits then, looking at his mate.

“Healing him?” Lydia repeats, looking back at the wound on Scott’s side.

Stiles stays next to Derek, but he nods at Lydia, “Werewolves have healing abilities, it’s why I had Derek bite him.”

“Oh, of course they have healing abilities,” Lydia says sarcastically, “Of fucking course they do.”

Derek watches as the wounds start healing and he can hear agent Martin’s heart start racing faster than before as she stares at them as well.

Stiles’s eyes widen some as he watches his friend heal right before his eyes, letting go of the werewolf to move forward on numb feet before kneeling back down next to his best friend, hand shaking as he touches Scott’s arm, “Scotty, buddy, come on, wake up,” he urges.

“No,” Scott groans, completely disoriented, because the last thing he remembers is blacking out from the pain - he’d been shot. He reaches down at once and touches his stomach, frowning when he doesn’t feel anything aside from his skin, so he sits up and looks around and screams suddenly when he sees the huge bear/wolf hybrid, scrambling backwards until his back hits the wall, “Holy shit!”

Derek huffs in annoyance, leaning down to pick up the tatters of his clothes, his gun, his holster, and his cell phone as he ignores Scott’s reaction to him.

“Calm down,” Lydia says as she watches her husband, “He’s **just** a werewolf.”

“Just a werewolf?!” Scott shouts, eyes almost bulging out of his head as he looks at her, then back to the huge... **thing**.

“Dude,” Stiles puts his palms up and moves closer, trying to calm his friend down, “It’s Derek, okay? You were dying, man, and he saved you. He bit you, you’re a-you’re a werewolf now, too.”

“Yeah,” Lydia says matter-of-factly, “Werewolves can heal.”

Scott looks between both Stiles and Lydia, feeling like he’s in some kind of a Twilight dimension or something, “Were-werewolf,” he repeats incredulously, even though the damn thing is right in front of him, “I-I’m a-” he shakes his head, trying to take it all in. It sounds bizarre, but he doesn’t know how else to explain everything else that’s going on right now, how to explain the fact that his gunshot wound is completely gone, “Right.”

“Yeah, that’s Hale,” Lydia motions to the werewolf as he walks out of the alleyway, “He literally exploded out of his clothes like-not ten minutes ago.”

“Uh huh,” Scott nods numbly and stares at his wife intently, “You saw it a-and you’re okay… right now? Because I’m-is this real life?”

Lydia moves to him to touch his cheek, “Yeah, baby, it’s real life… and apparently werewolves are like a… a thing, I guess…” she reaches out with her other hand to look at his stomach, “I watched you heal right before my eyes, you had the bullet wound and the bite from him right here.”

Scott reaches up and touches the hand on his cheek, his eyes searching hers before he pulls her into a hug, burying his face against her neck, “I thought I was gonna die,” he admits, eyes widening even more when he can smell… _her_ , and not just the way he can normally smell her, it’s **more** \- like he can distinguish certain things about her scent, “You smell good.”

Lydia blushes and smiles slightly, “What? My perfume?” she asks in confusion, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him nervously, “It’s-it’s just the stuff you got me for Christmas…”  


Stiles grins when he hears Scott mention Lydia’s scent and he pats his friend on the back before standing up, otherwise silent as he takes off after Derek to see what happens now, unsure of whether or not his mate will have to help Scott deal with being a werewolf.

* * *

Derek climbs into the driver’s side of his vehicle as carefully and quietly as possible, shifting back to his human form as he moves to the back to grab a change of clothes, tossing down the tatters of his old ones.

Stiles reaches their car and frowns when he doesn’t see Derek up front or standing outside of it somewhere, but he narrows his eyes when he sees movement in the back, so he opens the driver's side door and pokes his head in, “You getting dressed?” he asks, getting a nice view of his mate’s ass.

“Yes,” Derek responds and smells Stiles’s scent change slightly, smirking to himself as he dresses quickly, pulling on his tie as he looks at his mate, “Did you want something?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says and leans back out, “I wanna talk to you, so… when you’re fully dressed, come out here,” he requests softly.

The alpha huffs and grabs his back up pair of shoes and his coat that he’d left in the back seat (thankfully), before stepping into the driver’s side seat, sitting down to put on his shoes, “What do you want?”

“I just-I wanted to apologize for yelling at you the way I did,” Stiles says, standing next to the door and looking down at his mate, “I’m sorry. I panicked and… had you bite him, because I couldn’t stand the thought of living my life without him in it. And… I also want to thank you for saving my best friend’s life. So can you like, hurry up and get your shoes on so you can stand up, I wanna kiss you.”

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles, tying his left shoe before he steps out of his vehicle, reaching back to grab his holster and his gun, turning the safety back on as he looks at the younger man, “I know _why_ you did it, but it was blindly ignorant of you to request me to do such a thing.”

“It was either let him die now,” Stiles starts and moves closer to Derek, frowning up at the werewolf, “Or have you bite him, and regardless of how shitty a typical werewolf life is, I’d much rather have him around like this than not at all.”

His eyes flit down to his mate’s lips for a moment, “Lean down here?”

Derek wants to argue the point further, but doesn’t, eyes softening and he leans down, reaching out to touch Stiles’s waist as he kisses his mate.

Stiles presses up into it, trying to pour all of his love and appreciation into the gesture as he wraps his arms around the werewolf’s shoulders, fingertips moving against the nape of Derek’s neck.

Derek wraps his arms around the smaller man’s body, pulling him close and kissing him harder, tilting his head as he closes his eyes and runs his tongue out over the bow of Stiles’s upper lip.

Stiles groans softly and nips at the werewolf’s tongue, grinning weakly as he kisses Derek again, “Thank you,” he says, hands clutching the older man’s head to pull him down some more as he peppers kisses all over his face, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Stiles,” Derek mutters, standing back upright to stop his mate and the alpha lifts his brows as he looks down at the younger man, “You can thank me later, right now we need to deal with McCall and this case, before it gets out of hand.”

“Okay,” Stiles nods, still grinning as he stares at Derek, leaning up on his tip toes suddenly to kiss the werewolf one last time.

Derek closes the driver’s side door, ignoring the girl still shrieking and kicking against her own door as she tries to break the handcuffs. He walks past her, back into the alleyway and to Scott and Lydia, watching the two as he clears his throat, “I guess we need to talk.”

Scott’s eyes snap to Derek when the agent clears his throat and it’s like there’s something in his DNA now that needs to respond to the older man, “Yeah, okay,” he says, nodding in agreement as he stands and pulls Lydia up with him, “Can she stay, though?”

“She’s your wife,” Derek responds flatly, “This affects her and your children just as much as it affects you.”

“Okay,” Scott says, narrowing his eyes at Derek as he rubs his hand up and down Lydia’s back, keeping her close to him, “What do we need to talk about?” he asks, “I mean, other than the fact that I’m now apparently a uh-a werewolf.”

“There’s a lot more to it than just that,” Derek says in annoyance, frowning, “It’s not gonna be easy, it’s dangerous. It’s difficult enough for me, and I’ve been living with it my entire life. **If** you think you can handle it, you can continue working, but chances are you’ll have to take some time off, at least to adjust.”

“Adjust?” Scott asks curiously.

“You’ve already noticed your sense of smell,” Derek points out, “Sometimes it’ll be overwhelming; you won’t always smell **just** your wife, you’ll smell things you don’t want to, hear things, taste things. Adjusting to this lifestyle isn’t easy. And you’ll have other urges you can’t always control.”

“Like what?” Scott asks, eyes wide and inquisitive.

Derek glances at Stiles for a moment, “During the full moon, you’ll get ‘moody’,” he explains it like Stiles normally does, “You’ll shift, you’ll get angry. The urges… I’m not sure if they’re different, since you were bitten and not born a werewolf, but chances are they’re the same. You’ll want to scent Lydia, mark her - especially if you mate her. You’ll become more protective of your children than you are already.  


“Chances are I'll miss something today. Stiles broke my phone, so you can call him if you have any questions, he knows just about everything I know, but it's likely you won’t need much more than that. And… the full moon’s in a week, so you’ll probably be best taking those days off and staying with us, just in case.” 

“How many days?” Scott asks, already feeling disgruntled with the idea of being away from Lydia, Heidi and Oliver, “How long will I need to be away from my family?”

“Just two days,” Derek says in assurance, “The day after the full moon you’ll be sluggish and tired, but you won’t be an ass.”

“Alright,” Scott nods and moves his hand to Lydia’s hip, tugging her closer instinctively, “Is there… can I hurt them?” he asks.

Derek nods, “You can hurt just about **anyone**. I suggest, if you’re angry at any point, it’s better to take it out on furniture,” he shrugs, “But it’s dangerous, like I said, that’s why I **don’t** bite people,” he glance at Stiles and then back to Scott, “It’s not like you’ll wake up and have killed them in your sleep, nothing like that, but you have to be… gentle, very gentle with them all, like you're touching, or grabbing a cotton ball, they’re delicate.”

Scott frowns when he realizes just how firmly he’s holding onto Lydia and he loosens his grip, pulling his hand away guiltily, “I’m sorry, baby,” he says sincerely, “Was I hurting you?”

“Not so much,” Lydia says and shakes her head, “It’s fine.”

Derek watches the exchange and then reaches out to take Stiles’s wrist, “You’ll leave bruises, no matter how much control you think you have. It isn’t easy, just… don’t take it out on yourself. The worst times are when you’re sleeping, you probably don’t want to sleep fully until you’re comfortable with your strength, or keep something else in your arms, not your wife.”

Stiles moves closer to Derek and smiles at Scott, “I’ve got faith in you, dude, you’re gonna rock this,” he says encouragingly.

“I could hurt her in my sleep?” Scott asks, appreciative of Stiles’s words, but more concerned with Derek’s.

“You could kill her, easily,” Derek admits, swallowing tightly, “It’s not easy having the strength we do, but it’s not just then. Taking her hand, opening doors, driving your car, picking up your daughter or your son, taking off your clothes. Every single thing you do is gonna be difficult.

"Get in as **much** practice as possible on the things you can afford to lose,” the alpha says warily, “Cups are good to practice on, the paper ones at work.”

It’s a lot of information to take in and it’s still all a little too surreal, but Scott nods and swallows audibly, worried about harming his family more than anything, “What about other things?” he asks vaguely, unsure of how to word it, “I can…” he frowns, “I can feel you, like… your presence… is that normal?”

“I’m your alpha,” Derek explains, “I sired you, so you’ll always feel me, wherever I am. If I was dead, even if I was across the planet, you’d know in a heartbeat.”

“That’s weird,” Scott says then, but he nods, “My nose burns and I’m getting a headache, is that normal, too?”

Derek nods, “Yeah that’s normal, unfortunately,” he narrows his brows, “There’s not much you can do about scents, just try not to _scent_ the air-” he shows Scott, quickly scenting the area around them, “Once you’re used to it, you can block out certain scents, but for now just try to ignore it. And if it becomes too much, just scent your wife, that’ll normally help - especially if you’re mated to her.”

“What do you mean ‘mated’?” Scott asks, “I’m already married to her, we have two kids… I don’t get it.”

Stiles chuckles a little at that, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he raises his brows at Lydia, then he looks at his friend, “You’re gonna notice some physical changes to your junk, dude,” he says, “But try not to freak out, it’s not all bad,” he tries to reassure him, glancing briefly at Lydia, “It’s really not, so you don’t freak out either.”

“Don’t freak out?” Lydia asks, making a face, “My husband’s a werewolf, I don’t see it getting weirder than that.”

“It gets a little weirder than that,” Stiles corrects her, still grinning, “He’s uh-he’s gonna have a knot, like around the base of his dick,” he reaches down and makes an obscene gesture with his hands, showing her about how wide it’ll be, “Mating consists of him… well, you know, you’re smart, you can figure it out.”

Lydia looks between Stiles and Derek as her cheeks heat, “So you… you two have done this-this… you two have… you’ve mated?”

Stiles nods and his grin turns a little more sincere, “And it’s… it’s probably more serious than marriage. You and I, we’re human so it may not really affect us the way it will them, but if you’re anything like me… you’ll feel it, you’ll feel the draw to Scott afterwards, you’ll never wanna be without him.”

Derek blinks and looks at Stiles, crossing his arms over his chest as he turns back to Scott and Lydia, trying not to think too much into what his mate says, “It’s more than marriage, it’s physical, it’s a binding, and it’ll never fade away once you do it.”

Lydia nods slowly, glancing at Scott, “Well, we’re already married, I don’t see why we **wouldn’t** make it… official?”

Scott grins slowly at Lydia and a sudden, pleased growl erupts from his chest and his eyes widen, hand coming up to cover his mouth as he looks at Derek in confusion, “What was that?” he asks, panicked.

“A growl?” Derek responds shortly, as if it wasn’t obvious, “That’s bound to happen, when you’re pleased, or angry… you probably shouldn’t keep this from Heidi, or Oliver when he gets old enough, just as long as you make sure they know not to tell people. Your daughter’s smart.”

Scott lowers his hand and clears his throat, nodding at the alpha, “Yeah, she is,” he agrees, even though he’s still kind of worried as to how she’s going to handle it.

Derek presses his lips together, “It’s best, though, if you keep it on a need to know basis. It’s dangerous knowledge to some people, hunters - and if **humans** found it, I think you know already how bad that would be.”

Lydia sighs in annoyance, “Great, this is just what we need,” she crosses her arms, “Like our lives aren’t busy and complicated enough already.”

Scott frowns and looks at his wife then, shaking his head as his brows narrow, “Why are you being so bitter right now?” he asks, “He saved my life, Lydia… would you rather I be dead?”

“Of course not,” Lydia responds quickly and looks at Scott, “But now, we’ll be lucky if you don’t out yourself or kill one of us.”

Scott’s frown deepens and he loves his wife, he really does, but he wishes she would think about the things she says sometimes before she says them, “Do you not have any faith in me at all?” he asks, inexplicably hurt by the way Lydia’s acting.

Lydia turns to Scott completely and shakes her head, “That’s not it at all, baby, but are you listening to what he’s saying at all? I mean, we’ve all seen how miserable he is at work, and how many phones he breaks. This is a guy that’s been doing it his **entire** life.”

Derek listens silently and he can’t help but to take a little offense to what she’s apparently observed over her time working with the FBI.

“Right,” Scott tries to say in understanding, nodding as he stares at Lydia, then he glances at the other werewolf, “Is that all for now, or..?”

“I think we’ve covered enough, just as long as you’re careful and let Martin do most of the things you’ll need to watch, like opening doors, you should be fine - just practice as much as you can when you’re alone,” Derek says stiffly, “If you have any problems or anything, just call Stiles.”

“Okay,” Scott says, still nodding somewhat before turning back to his wife, searching her face before kissing her cheek gently and then he stalks off silently towards their car.

Stiles frowns when his friend walks off and he looks at Lydia, “I know you love him, so show it a little more. He’s gonna need it now probably more than ever, just make sure he knows you’re on his side.”

Lydia nods as she watches Scott, “Yeah, of course I’m on his side,” she says and follows after her husband.

Derek watches them leave and looks at Stiles then, “I’m not sure how we’re supposed to clean all of this blood up…”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of our unpublished werks (besides fer this fic and a couple others that will be coming up on AO3 soon) can now only be found to read on my tumblr blog Cammerel, deep inside our RP vault that's now up fer viewing by dedicated readers.


	23. How Do You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
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> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

“Can’t believe my best friend is a werewolf,” Stiles mumbles to himself as he turns the water on, grimacing as he peels his clothes off, fabric stained with Scott’s blood from where they cleaned it up, “You’d be able to tell if he was like, in distress or something… right?”

“Yeah,” Derek says as he watches his mate, unbuttoning his own shirt as he toes off his socks, “I think he’ll be fine. He’s a good person, he’d never be careless enough to endanger his family.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles says and looks at the dried blood under his fingernails before moving to step into the shower, “I just worry about him and I-I wanna make sure we help him as much as we can, at least until he’s used to it, anyway.”

Derek nods in agreement, “I’m concerned as well, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” he pulls off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt, “I’m more concerned about his kids saying things…”

“Heidi won’t,” Stiles says confidently, staying away from the spray of water until he gets his splint off, leaning out of the shower to toss it on the bathroom counter, “She’s too smart.”

The alpha steps out of his pants, pushing his tight boxer briefs down his thighs, “I know she is, but kids are still unpredictable, smart or otherwise,” he says as he moves to the tub.

“I think that if she understands the consequences, she’ll be more likely not to say anything,” Stiles steps aside, making room for his mate as he moves under the spray, “Scott’ll just-he’ll need to explain everything in detail so that she understands, if she understands then it should be fine.”

Derek joins Stiles, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist, hands sliding over his mate’s skin, “Should be,” he agrees, dropping his head down and pressing soft kisses along his neck.

“Mm,” Stiles sighs in relief the moment he feels Derek’s lips against his skin, all the tension from the evening bleeding out of him and he leans into it, “Feels nice.”

The alpha grins as he turns his head, biting Stiles’s throat, just above his adam’s apple as he slides his hands down the other man’s legs, “We were interrupted.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says softly and smiles to himself, “Yep, that’s a thing that happened.” He turns around then and looks up at Derek, left hand trailing over the slickness of the werewolf’s chest and down along his stomach, “You wanna pick up where we left off?”

“ _ **Yes**_ ,” Derek responds, voice deep as he runs his palms down Stiles’s back, shifting closer to the smaller man as he leans down, pressing a quick kiss to his partner’s lips, and then a second as he growls low in the back of his throat.

Stiles smiles at the growl and reaches up to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck, deepening the kiss and licking into his mate’s mouth, groaning softly at the familiar taste as his left hand grips at the werewolf’s hair, “How d’you want me?”

Derek feels his mouth dry a little at the question, fingers smoothing over Stiles’s ass as his eyes narrow, he almost reacts with a typical comment, but changes his mind, smirking slowly as he leans down more to whisper in Stiles’s ear, “ _In me_.”

Stiles feels his cock throb at the comment and he shivers in excitement, because this isn’t something they’ve done since the older man’s heat, “Okay,” he says numbly, but he knows that the angles won’t work in the shower, because the alpha’s too tall, “After the shower, then?”

The alpha reaches past Stiles for the shampoo, “Yeah.”  


Stiles grins to himself and goes for the body wash after Derek gets the shampoo, trying not to seem like he’s too excited as he lathers up the older man’s sponge, mindlessly scrubbing along his mate’s body.

Derek washes Stiles’s hair quickly, occasionally leaning in and kissing him, rinsing out the soap and running his hands over the younger man’s shoulders as he scents Stiles’s neck. He reaches out for the body wash and, though he knows that Stiles isn’t trying to seem eager, he doesn’t bother to try and hide it for himself.

Stiles hangs the sponge back up and snags the shampoo, chest swelling some when he really thinks about how domestic they’ve become, taking care of one another like this, “Lean down here a little,” he says, because he knows he won’t be able to wash his mate’s hair otherwise.

“Mhm,” the alpha mutters as he leans down, taking the sponge and lathering up the body wash in it before running it down Stiles’s thighs and calves.

Stiles kisses Derek’s cheek as his fingers scrub the shampoo through his mate’s soft hair, body still thrumming with excitement.

Derek runs the sponge up Stiles’s back, over his shoulders and down his chest, leaning in again to kiss his mate before standing upright to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

Stiles waits until the werewolf has his hair rinsed and then steps back under the spray to rinse himself off, hands rubbing over his body to get the body wash off and he raises a brow at the alpha when he’s done, then proceeds to step out of the shower to grab his towel.

Derek follows after quickly, turning off the water and taking his own towel. He dries off, walking behind Stiles and leaning down to kiss the back of his neck, the alpha’s hands reaching down to grab Stiles’s ass.

Stiles dries his face and scrubs the towel against his head, then looks back at the alpha suggestively, unable to keep from smiling before he tosses his towel into the hamper.

Derek puts his own towel in after Stiles’s, grabbing the smaller man’s waist and pulling him close as he guides his mate out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into their bedroom, hands lifting to cup Stiles’s face as he kisses him.

Stiles hums against the werewolf’s lips and his brows raise of their own accord, “Eager?” he breathes, his own anxiousness beginning to show as he tries pushing his mate more towards the bed.

“Yes,” Derek admits willingly, and though Stiles doesn’t have the strength to move him in the slightest, if he wanted, he lets the younger man take control, his hands dropping to run over Stiles’s chest as he smiles slightly and stares at his mate.

Stiles nods and the admittance makes him smile, pushing his mate gently onto the bed as he leans over the side of it, “Like last time?” he asks curiously, eyes raking down over the werewolf’s body beneath him, “Or like this?”

Derek shrugs and repeats Stiles’s words from before, “How do you want me?”

“I think I’d like to actually see your face this time,” Stiles tells him, bracing himself against the mattress with his good hand as he leans down some to kiss Derek, “Is that okay with you?”

Derek kisses Stiles back, shifting slightly on the bed and running his hand down his mate’s side as he nods and spreads his legs, “Yeah, of course it is.”

Stiles can’t deny that it feels a little different than last time, the urgency is gone and things are more calm, they’re both more clear headed and that, in turn, kind of makes him nervous. He tries not to let it show, though, and he nods before leaning for the lube. After sitting it next to them, he shifts down and presses slow, tentative kisses along the werewolf’s hairy chest.

Derek watches Stiles curiously, slowly lifting one of his legs and running his heel down the younger man’s calves, “Calm down,” the alpha says as he reaches up to smooth his fingers along the back of Stiles’s neck, “Why are you worried?”

“I’m not worried,” Stiles says, lifting his mouth some from his mate’s chest to look him in the eyes, “I’m nervous, there’s a distinct difference,” he explains, kissing Derek’s nipple.

“Not where this is concerned,” Derek responds, thumb moving to brush Stiles’s cheek, “Why are you _nervous_?”

“I dunno,” Stiles leans into the touch for a moment, head turning and kissing the pad of his mate’s finger, “It’s just-this is different,” he smiles slightly, “Before… it was more of a need, things were heated and… spur of the moment.” He blinks slowly, “I want this, I’m just nervous.”

Derek lifts a brow at the explanation, “It’s not always heated. Are you nervous because you’re on top?”

“I’m just nervous, I dunno,” Stiles shrugs halfheartedly, “And I know it’s not always heated, I don’t mind. Like I said, I want it… badly, I really do,” he nods and leans back down, flicking the older man’s nipple with his tongue.

The alpha lets out a soft breath as Stiles licks him and he drops his head back, “You don’t need to be nervous,” he says as his other hand runs down his mate’s side, “You’ve already done this before.”

“I know,” Stiles whispers against the skin, not bothering to further explain why it’s different. Instead, he tries to focus all of his attention on his mate, kissing and nipping all over the werewolf’s chest, tasting the older man’s flesh as he moves further down, eyes flitting up to watch Derek’s expression when he sinks his teeth into the alpha’s hip.

Derek gasps, eyes widening and his hand curls in the back of Stiles’s hair as his mouth drops open in surprise, “Stiles,” he groans weakly.

Stiles hums quietly and releases the skin, tongue lashing out over the mark soothingly before he moves lower, mouth trailing hotly down Derek’s happy trail and he takes a moment to breathe his mate in before gently kissing the tip of his length. He can’t really use his right hand much, so he bends his right arm and holds himself up with his forearm pressed to the mattress, reaching out with his left hand for the lube. He can’t really warm it up before he puts it on the older man, either, so he at least tries to warn him, “It’s gonna be cold.”

“That’s fine,” Derek says as he lifts his legs, eyes still focused on his mate as he waits. He’s tempted to offer a hand, considering Stiles can only really use one of his own, but he’s not sure if it’d be appreciated at this point.

Stiles presses his lips to Derek’s inner thigh just as he applies some of the lube directly to his mate’s entrance, shutting the cap and tossing it aside as he draws the skin into his mouth lightly, thumb brushing over the slick rim as he marks the werewolf again.

The last time they’d done this Derek had been half out of his mind with his heat, just desperate to get things moving, but now that he’s more aware of everything that’s going on, he can’t help comparing it to his previous experiences with being on the bottom. Stiles is unusually gentle, even though he doesn’t have to be, and Derek finds it easier to relax with his mate than he had the men he’d been with before. He keeps running his hand through Stiles’s hair, more to calm himself than to comfort Stiles.

Stiles isn’t necessarily moving slowly for the older man, because he knows Derek can handle just about anything he’d dish out. It’s more for himself and it sounds selfish, but he doesn’t want to just rush into it still being a nervous mess, because it’d just end up going bad and quickly. So he takes his time and leisurely presses his index finger into the werewolf’s entrance, allowing the rim to adjust as he leaves a trail of marks up and down his mate’s thighs.

Derek growls lowly as Stiles marks him up and his body shakes eagerly, cock drizzling pre-come down the side of his waist as he whines in the back of his throat and fights the urge to speed his mate along.

Stiles pulls his mouth off of Derek’s thigh and leans up a little further, pumping his finger in and out lazily before pushing in a second, head dipping down to catch the pre-come with his tongue, cleaning the werewolf’s skin before suckling on the plush cap of the older man’s cock.

Derek all but winces as Stiles cleans him off and his length throbs painfully, knot swelling slightly as the alpha lets out a frustrated huff of breath, but still doesn’t ask Stiles to do more, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and dropping his head back.

Stiles smiles to himself, because he can practically feel the impatience wafting off of Derek in waves, so before the older man even has a chance to adjust to the second finger, he shoves a third in as he takes more of the werewolf’s cock into his mouth, groaning around the girth.

“Stiles,” Derek mutters numbly, looking down the best he can with his head back on the bed, “Please,” he says then, unable to stop himself as he watches the smaller man, his toes curling as his free hand grabs at the sheets to keep himself sated in some way.

Stiles pulls off of Derek’s length, leaving it slick and shiny, lying heavy against the older man’s stomach as he removes his fingers from his mate’s heat as well. He uses the excess on his fingers and smears it against himself, then moves slowly, mindful of his right hand as he lines up and pushes in all in one breath, staring down at the alpha, “This what you wanted?”

Derek nods and reaches out to touch Stiles’s torso, one hand grabbing his side, the other smoothing up his left pec, “Yes,” he breathes out as his heart races, legs lifting higher and wrapping around his mate’s back, “Yes, that’s what I wanted.”

“And I thought **I** was impatient,” Stiles says fondly, wincing at how snug the werewolf is around him as he dips down to kiss Derek affectionately.

The alpha kisses back at once, his body arching off the bed slightly as he licks at Stiles’s mouth, “Please,” he mutters against his mate’s mouth, “Move.”

“Okay,” Stiles says and pulls his hips back, drawing his length out some before pushing back in, groaning as his mouth pops open and he stares down at the alpha. He reaches up mindlessly and plays with his mate’s hair, trying to distract himself from how tight the werewolf is.

Derek growls lowly, his body shaking as Stiles pulls out and, though he can’t feel any pain in the slightest, there’s still this dull, pressured ache that causes him to groan and reach down to brush his fingers over his knot.

Stiles glances down, eyes following Derek’s hand and he raises a brow at the older man, “I’d do it for you if I didn’t need my left hand,” he rocks into his mate slowly and snorts out a soft chuckle, “This is a lot more difficult than it looks.”

“It’s fine,” the alpha says softly, “I know you’re injured,” he huffs as he smiles to himself, his feet sliding over Stiles’s backside as he urges his mate on a little.

“D’you not want it slow?” Stiles asks curiously, leaning down to brush his nose along Derek’s, “Tell me what you want.”

Derek narrows his brows and shrugs, “It’s fine slow,” he says, “I’m just… Anxious, but you can take your time with me, no rush,” he reaches out and runs his thumb along Stiles’s chin and jaw as he kisses his mate, “I don’t mind, either way, I just want this.”

Stiles kisses back and nods just once, letting out a soft whimper against the older man’s mouth as he increases his pace some, relying on the support of his right arm as he reaches down to grip Derek’s thigh with his left hand in order to hike it a little higher, “You’re really fucking tight.”

“Probably because I don’t do this often,” Derek mutters dismissively, wetting his lips as he breathes and wills his body to relax again. He’s not used to this at all, during his heat it’s something else entirely, and the only other past experience was from **years** ago.

“Maybe we should do it more,” Stiles says suggestively and his brows narrow, body beginning to flush all over from exertion as he fucks down into the werewolf.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it more,” Derek admits at once, running his fingers through Stiles’s hair as he lets out a shaky breath, “I know it’s difficult, with your hand, if you want-I could ride you.”

“If I-If I want?” Stiles’s eyes widen and he stares down at the older man like he’s straight up lost his goddamn mind, “Are you kidding me? Of course I **want** ,” he says, smiling suddenly.

Derek chuckles and sits up, flipping them quickly as he minds Stiles’s hand, laying his mate down under him as he shifts his knees on the mattress and arches his back. He reaches behind himself and places his palms down on the bed as he lifts off Stiles’s cock almost completely, then lowers down slowly.

“ _Oh Jesus fucking Christ_ ,” Stiles groans out because the imagery is ridiculous, watching his mate above him and it causes his cock to throb inside of the werewolf’s heat. It’s easier like this and he doesn’t have to put quite as much strain on his right hand, he can just… lie back and enjoy it, left hand moving to Derek’s waist, gripping it firmly.

The alpha grabs handfuls of the sheets as he moves, chest heaving and eyes closing as he fucks himself down on Stiles’s cock, his own throbbing painfully as it bounces lazily between them. He gasps as he moves, brows narrowing as he feels his own orgasm building unusually fast.

Stiles whimpers and tries to shift his legs some on the bed, hand moving from Derek’s waist and he smooths his palm up along his mate’s abdomen, teasing the older man’s right nipple before drawing it back down to brush the backs of his knuckles down along the underside of the werewolf’s shaft.

Derek opens his eyes and looks at Stiles, gaze dropping to the other man’s hand as he reaches back up, leaning forward and resting his arms on either sides of his mate’s head as the alpha stares down into his eyes and continues to move atop Stiles, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, big guy,” Stiles says, eyes glazing over some and he leans up the best he can to kiss Derek, hand still idly teasing his mate’s length as he tries not to think about his own impending orgasm, “So much.”

Derek lets out a shaky breath as he scents Stiles, leaning in to nip and bite at the younger man’s neck before mouthing up Stiles’s cheek and temple, resting his chin near his mate’s hairline as he tries to keep his release back, “You’re close,” he breathes out, body shaking with the words, “So am I.”

“Fuck,” Stiles moans out and lifts his head to kiss down Derek’s neck, left hand now loosely fisting his mate’s length as his kisses turns into nips. When his mouth reaches the spot between the werewolf’s arm and his pec - the same place the alpha had marked him - he sinks his teeth in roughly, harder than he ever has and he comes simultaneously.

Derek gasps in pain and his eyes widen, looking down at his mate as his eyes flash and his body tenses, one hand moving to grab the nape of Stiles’s neck as he growls. It takes him a couple seconds more than Stiles to come, but he does, regardless, knot swelling and his bottom lip trembling as he stills atop his mate.

Stiles whines against the skin when he feels Derek clenching around him and he lets go, the taste of copper on his tongue as he licks the indentations his teeth left and seeing the mark makes his chest swell proudly, even though he already knows Derek is his.

“Weren’t satisfied with normal bites?” the alpha teases, even though too many parts of him are _far too pleased_ that his mate felt the need to draw blood.

“Mm,” Stiles shakes his head, “Sorry, I dunno, I just-I really wanted to. And we need to like, do this again really soon, because wow.”

“Once your hand gets better,” Derek says as he licks the blood from Stiles’s lips, “That way you can do it all properly.”

“I mean you riding me,” Stiles points out, nudging the alpha’s nose with his own as his breath finally calms some, “That’s what we need to do again soon.”

Derek grins and stares into his mate’s eyes, combing his fingers through Stiles’s hair, “We need to do _all_ of it again soon, not just the riding.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods and lets his eyes flutter closed, the older man’s touch causing him to shudder and smile, “Yeah, I’m on board.”

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted four more of our unpublished werks on my tumblr blog 'Cammerel', deep inside our RP vault that's now up fer viewing by dedicated readers.


	24. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reference Collection](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/74432876674/tumblr_mzxj4kCBxh1rxjbyo) \- [Edits](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/tagged/Blue-Moon-Edits)  
> 
> 
> _ We ask that you please read [THIS](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/private/95657932843/tumblr_natpvuqwGt1rxjbyo) before reading on. _

Derek narrows his brows when he feels Stiles’s foot rub up against his leg as he talks to the lead on the phone, “No, ma’am, your brother isn’t in any trouble,” he says as he throws a glare at his mate, “We’re just trying to reach him for questioning.”

Stiles sniggers to himself when the alpha glares at him and continues to lift his foot higher, grinning as he tries to appear like he’s doing paper work.

The alpha reaches out to the binder clip holding his list of leads to the manila folder, flicking it at Stiles and hitting him in the chest, “That’s more than helpful, thank you, Mrs. Franco.”

Stiles clutches his chest and starts laughing then, arms shooting up as he almost falls backwards in his chair but he catches himself on the desk, staring in amusement at the older man.

Derek rolls his eyes as he hangs up the phone, writing down the last of the information and checking his coat for his keys, “You wanna go out and grab lunch early?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods and rubs a hand over his face, cheeks hurting from smiling for so long and he logs out of the system, turning his monitor off before grabbing his things.

Derek starts to stand up as well and stops when his phone rings, he glances around to Erica, but she’s talking with Lahey on the other line and the alpha narrows his brows, sitting back down, “One second,” he says in confusion and picks up the phone, “Hale.”

“Agent Hale, this is Marcy from the fifth floor,” the woman says, “I know it’s almost lunch time, but would you mind coming up for a moment? Your presence has been requested on an urgent matter.”

Derek frowns and nods silently, listening to the woman in question’s heart beats and voice on the other side of the line just a couple floors above them, “I’ll be right up,” he says and hangs up the phone, standing and looking at Stiles in confusion, “I’m being summoned upstairs, if you wanna stay, I’m… not sure how long it’ll take.”

Stiles tries not to act too disheartened as he nods, laying his things back down on his desk, “Yeah, no problem. Just come back down and grab me when you’re done? Maybe we can go to lunch then.”

“Of course,” Derek says as he walks around the desks, lifting Stiles’s chin and kissing him firmly, “If it takes too long, just go without me, but I don’t see why it would.” He reaches down to squeeze his mate’s shoulder before moving out of the office area, walking to the elevator and putting his hands in his pockets once he’s hit the button.

He steps inside when the doors open, pushing the button for the fifth floor and frowning to himself as they close. In **all** of the years he’s worked with the FBI, he’s never had to go up any higher than the third, which makes him a little nervous - if he didn’t know already that Deaton is the one that fires agents, he’d assume that was the reasoning, he’s more then deserved it on multiple occasions.

The doors open and he steps out, seeing the woman, Marcy, sitting at her desk and motioning to him as he moves towards her with raised brows.

Marcy smiles at Derek and leans back in her chair, steepling her fingers as she nods to the huge wooden door to her left, “He’s ready to see you,” she says vaguely.

Derek frowns at the comment and moves to the door, opening it and stepping in only somewhat tentatively as he tries to remain as calm as possible under the circumstances.

“Derek Hale,” the man in the chair says, tone slightly amused, his back to the werewolf, “Glad you could make it up.”

Derek tilts his head slightly at the sound of the voice, scenting the air and, though the man’s scent is familiar, he’s having difficulty placing it, “Sir,” he starts, trying to sound respectful, “Is there something you needed me for?”

“There is,” the man confirms, still keeping his back to the agent, “I like you, Derek,” he says sincerely enough, “But I’m going to tell you what I don’t like. I don’t like when another of my kind is reckless, blatantly exposing themselves to humans.” He turns around then and leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, “Do you know why I don’t like that, Derek?” he asks coldly.

Derek’s eyes widen as he sees the man finally and a chill runs through him as he remembers Boyd being shot right in front of him. The blind man that took his gun, and Derek knows now that the man in the shadows was his uncle, the third he’s seen in the bureau before, but this one - just like Peter - is clearly a werewolf, whether he’d said it or not, Derek would’ve known at once, “Why..?”

“Because it endangers **me** ,” Deucalion points out, able to tell almost at once that Derek knows who he is now, “Your uncle has endangered me once and I’m not going to let it happen again, do you understand me?” he asks threateningly.

Derek swallows tightly, “I’ve always been careful about exposing werewolves to the public,” he says calmly, “No one saw me shift.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Deucalion tells him, “A woman who goes by the name _Lula Phillips_ saw you - your colleague, Martin I believe, handcuffed her to her vehicle,” he says, waiting for the other alpha’s reaction.

Derek clenches his jaw as he thinks back and, though he hadn’t realized it at the time, this man was probably right, “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says weakly, “She’s locked up now, anyway, it’s not like she can do much to expose our kind.”

“You’re right about that last part, my friend,” Deucalion says, “But she’s not in jail, I had to take care of her because of your little mishap. It was really very naive of you, doing what you did and, as much as I’d like to just let things go, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that.”

“What are you gonna do?” Derek asks as he narrows his brows, “Kill me? Get rid of me like you got rid of my partner when he found out about Blue Moon? Order me to quit the FBI, or fire me? You’re not my alpha, if you think I’ll just let you push me around because you’re in the position you are with the humans, you’re mistaken.”

“Perhaps you’ll reconsider that when you take a look at these,” Deucalion pushes a manilla folder across his desk for the other alpha, waiting for him to open it, “I really would hate for certain… _details_ to be released, it would put your little darling in a conundrum.”

Derek snatches up the folder and glares at the other werewolf before opening it and it’s as though his heart stops entirely. He looks at the older man as his chest rises, body shaking with rage as he tries to force himself to talk, “What do you want me to do?”

Deucalion pushes a stapled stack of papers across his desk then and grins, “It’s easy, really. You’ll be transferring, the paperwork has already been done. You leave immediately for New York.”

Derek’s mouth opens as he looks down at the papers and he shakes his head, “I **live** here, I have a mate.”

“Not anymore, you don’t, not unless you want his life to be ruined,” Deucalion leans back in his chair some, “I want you gone and, if you don’t take what I’m offering you, I assure you… I can make his life a living Hell.”

“Why?” Derek asks as he narrows his eyes, “Transfer him as well, and… Scott McCall and his wife, he’s part of my pack now - you should know that already.”

“I do, and let me be the first to tell you: _ **I don’t like it**_ ,” Deucalion’s voice drops an octave, all amusement gone from his expression, “ _ **This is my territory, don’t make me defend it, because I will. I’m stronger than you, Derek, it wouldn’t end well.**_ So, like I said, I want you gone and no, I will not be transferring the others because that would be too kind, especially after what you’ve done.”

Derek looks back down at the papers, his chest tightening painfully and the lump forming in his throat as he tries to breathe, “... am I supposed to just leave him here?”

Deucalion’s lips curl up into a smirk and he nods, “No contact, either. If you can promise me that, I can assure you no one will harm him.”

Derek nods and takes the papers numbly, “Okay,” he says and turns, shoulders shaking as he reaches out for the door and opens it, trying to think of what he’s supposed to say to Stiles.

* * *

Derek parks his vehicle beside Stiles’s jeep and he’s been silent the entire ride back from work, unable to bring himself to tell his mate what happened on the fifth floor of the bureau, but now he actually **has** to, and just looking across the seats to Stiles is painful to do. He’s been trying to think of some way to ensure that there will be absolutely no contact between them after he leaves, and as much as it kills him to even consider what he has to say next, he knows it has to be convincing.

He takes off his seat belt and climbs out, walking to the door to unlock it as he keeps his back to Stiles.

Ever since Derek got the call to go up to the fifth floor, he’s been acting funny and Stiles, regardless of how hard he tries, he can barely get more than two words out of the guy. Frowning, he unbuckles himself as well and climbs out, worried about his mate as he follows him to the front door, “Are you gonna talk to me at all?” he asks softly, stepping to the werewolf’s side to try and look at him properly, “Tell me what happened, Derek.”

Derek closes his eyes as he unlocks the last deadbolt and opens the door, walking in and turning around to look at Stiles, “Do you remember when you overheard them saying that I was transferring to New York before? You asked me about it a few times.”

Stiles swallows in trepidation and nods, “Uh, yeah,” he says, nervous now because he doesn’t understand why his mate would bring it up, unless- “Are they transferring you?”

“Yes,” Derek responds and presses his lips together, “I requested it a while ago, the papers were finalized this morning, and I’m moving out tonight.”

“Y-Y-You requested it?” Stiles asks in confusion and numbly reaches out behind himself to close the door, “Why didn’t you tell me, I could’ve put in for transfer, too. Just give me a few days and I will, then we can just-we can go together.”

Derek narrows his brows as he shakes his head, “No, I don’t want you to transfer with me. I’m leaving **because** of you, because this…” he looks Stiles over and motions to his mate, “You can’t give me what I want.”

Stiles swallows down the lump in his throat and his eyes water, because what his mate is saying, the words leaving the werewolf’s mouth are so unlike Derek and he’s having a difficult time grasping all of this, “B-But we’ve talked about this, we can-there’s adoption, Derek. I-I don’t understand, things have been good,” he says, “Things **are** good,” he amends weakly.

“No, they’re not. I’ve been miserable with you, trying to think of how to tell you,” the alpha lies and rolls his eyes, “I don’t want you. I want a family, and children, and a wife that can provide that for me,” he looks around the living room, “I don’t want this.”

The words curl into Stiles’s chest and squeeze at his heart like a vice, making it difficult for him to breathe. He’s always been a little self-conscious, convinced that Derek could do better, knowing that he **should** do better, but the alpha had insisted that it wasn’t what he wanted, that he wanted Stiles - and now, now he feels unbelievably naive for ever believing the werewolf in the first place.

“We’re mated,” Stiles tries to reason, shaking his head as the tears fall and he doesn’t have the dignity at this point to even wipe them away, “Does that not mean anything to you?”

“It doesn’t,” Derek says as he looks away from Stiles, turning to move into the bedroom to take a few personal effects. He comes back just as quick as he left, trying not to let Stiles see what the words are doing to him, to see the state the younger man’s in because of him, “It was a mistake - maybe if I get far enough away from you I can just forget you exist already.”

Stiles doesn’t bother stifling the sob that Derek’s words pull out of him, body trembling and he has to sit down, because if he doesn’t he knows his legs are going to give out, “Everything we had was a lie?” he asks frantically, “You told me you loved me, Derek, you-you-” he covers his face for a moment, “You told me you **loved me**.”

“I lied,” Derek lies, eyes narrowing as he forces out a bitter chuckle, “I do that a lot. I never loved you - you were just easy, convenient, _willing_ ,” he walks past Stiles, “And I’m over it, you should get over it, too, and stop acting like a fucking child already.”

Stiles clenches his jaw at the remark and it feels like someone is repeatedly hitting him in the stomach, “This isn’t you,” he shakes his head, because it’s not, his mate has never acted like this, “It’s not-this isn’t you.”

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” Derek asks rhetorically, putting his hands in his pockets, trying to seem as casual and careless as possible, “Well, it was nice knowing you, _Stilinski_ , but I’ve got a plane to New York in about three hours and the ride to the airport is difficult at this time. So, when I don’t come back, maybe you’ll realize that it was… really me that’s leaving you, and you can fucking get over it.”

He turns to the door, opening it and then stopping to take his keys from his pocket, removing the ones for the house and tossing them on the ground at Stiles’s feet, “Oh, and I probably won’t need those anymore.”

“Derek, don’t,” Stiles’s chin quivers and he picks the keys up, moving out the front door in an attempt to stop the werewolf, “I dunno why you’re doing this, trying to make me believe all of this shit, but I know you and-it’s not-this isn’t you. We can work it out, you don’t have to go, I can be better for you, just-please don’t go.”

Derek turns to look at Stiles as he backs to the driver’s side of his vehicle, lifting his arms and shaking his head, “I don’t care, either way. Even if you could be better, I’m done with you. Don’t you get it?” he asks, “It was sex, it wasn’t even good sex, and I never loved you. So, you know, just in case you feel the urge to look me up or fucking stalk me, **don’t**.”

Stiles’s brows narrow in anger suddenly and he frowns, throwing the keys to the house as hard as he can at Derek as he fights back more tears, “I don’t fucking believe you!” he screams, “But if you wanna go so badly, then go, you fucking asshole!”

“I’m going,” Derek says, forcing out a laugh as he shakes his head and turns to his vehicle, climbing in and starting it up as he grins at Stiles and pulls out of the driveway, peeling off down the road and the moment he knows Stiles can’t see, the smile drops from his face, tears blurring his eyes and he lets out a shaky breath as they start dropping down his face.

[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yeah, that's the finale. **There will be a short, two month-long hiatus between this and season 3.**  
>  During the time, I'll update my other fics, including the Stackson one and the Steter one that haven't seen new chapters in a while. So you guys know I'll be around if you have any questions.  
> Most of season 3 is already written, so you have my werd that in two months it'll pick back up again. And who knows, maybe sooner, we'll have to see.
> 
> -MageStiles


End file.
